Working the Weather

Rain, cold and wet, draws me in, drowns me in dreary dreams and drizzly distractions. I am the weather. Where is the will? What does it take to join inspiration with actualization... these seeds of despondence... Decay in the floor boards, dry rot decaying my foundation. I smell a project. I feel so close near a way of being busy 'creating'... yet there is such a strong air of disbelief. Ain't no money in it, no immediate wellspring of love. Need a handle, umbrella to the weather of lost confidence. A Merry Weather to hold my hand through this storm of indecisiveness.