Choose Your Focus

I woke to see the cloud draped sky,

Just as the sun peeked through,

And thought with, irony, that’s what

The winters lead me to.

For clouds hang heavy every day,

The sun a scarce seen friend.

It seems I know the clouds by name

Before the winter’s end.

But then a sweet epiphany

At once occurred to me,

I ought to focus on the sun

And not the clouds I see.

That, on which we choose to focus,

Determines what we see

And what we see will help to shape

The person we will be.

So I will stop counting the clouds

That linger in my sky

And count instead the times the sun

Peeks out as it goes by.