I Have No Right to Complain

I have no right to rage about the rain
trickling into my dry cellar floor
when houses ransacked by the flood,
the floorboards, couches caked in mud,
appliances, albums, heirlooms loved
all heaped in piles outdoors
remind me that
I have no right to complain. 

I have no right to whine about the weeds
thriving while my zinnias are not blooming
when ravaged crops of corn and hay,
the verdant stalks now brown and grey,
and next-year’s seeds all swept away,
the end of season looming
convict me that
I have no right to complain. 

I have no right to gripe about the grass
incessant in its constant need for mowing
when farmers look over a field,
the barren rows washed of their yield,
they pray for their land to be healed
while my lawn keeps on growing
and tells me that
I have no right to complain. 

I have no right to moan about the mud
swallowing my parked car at the fair
when shops and restaurants were deluged
and snow shovels had to be used
to scrape away the muck that oozed
through books and silverware
O teach me that
I have no right to complain.

Photos by Joanie Praamsma

Suzanne Rood is the author of A LIMP OF FAITH (Credo House Publishers, 2019), her story of daily life with CMT, a hereditary neuropathy that challenges her walking, her music, and her faith. Here’s a link to purchase the book on Amazon.