Sometimes

I love this poem.  If I were reading it aloud for a Lectio Divina group, I would probably feel the need to change at least one of the masculine nouns to a feminine one or gender neutral.  Yet, today, I do not feel it is appropriate to tamper with the  poet's words.  I am not familiar with the writings of Sheenaugh Pugh.  I have learned she is a contemporary British writer.  If this poem is indicative, her works are surely worth exploring.    

May all your colors  thrive. 

Sometimes  Sometimes things don't go, after all, from bad to worse. Some years, muscadel faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don't fail, sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well. A people sometimes will step back from war; elect an honest man, decide they care enough, that they can't leave some stranger poor. Some men become what they were born for. Sometimes our best efforts do not go amiss, sometimes we do as we meant to. The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow that seemed hard frozen: may it happen for you. ~ Sheenagh Pugh

photograph:  San Leandro, March 2020