The days, they come; the days, they go.
Like rivers on and on they flow,
not always smoothly. Some will be
quite turbulent, some trouble free.
 
Like clouds and sunshine, rain and snow,
the days, they come; the days, they go.
While some are pleasant, others glum,
they're life--no matter how they come.
 
Our minds, through time, serve as the seat
of memories--some tart, some sweet.
The days, they come; the days, they go.
Hard times and blessings they bestow.
                  
The strong and wise will realize
the sun that sets will also rise.                
Soft breezes drift and rough winds blow.
The days, they come; the days, they go.


© by Janice Canerdy.
Used here with the author's permission.