Lying down on this patch of green,
With my finger tracing the clouds
What I feel is not burdening,
But peaceful.
Quietly, a dozen birds circle the sky,
Fleeting from their own troubles,
And seeking tranquility in one another.
A ball of sunshine lays its chin on the silky pillows,
Voluminous and radiant in wonder,
Grinning as its bright face scans the earth.
I close my eyes
And take in the song of my surroundings.
The rustling trees,
Nesting birds of glorious music;
And the waving bushes,
Home to many scuttering animals.
The crickets chirp and pounce to their delight
As I stay there and listen.
Suddenly,
A magnificent tremor awakes me from my daze.
I peel open my eyes, and gaze up
At the sun hiding its face away from the world,
While the soothing clouds meet those that are melancholy.
They roll in, sliding the subtle, humble puffs out of view.
They begin to perform,
With excellently terrifying explosions
Cueing rainfall.
I race towards cover
As the droplets dance off of the swaying leaves.
The sky turns a dark gray
And churns in midair as it rains down.
Where did the darkness come from?
When will it end?
Why are the joyful, brilliant clouds
Now weeping?
But after long displays of preeminent crescendos
And powerful symbols of bright golden light
That shimmered across the dark-lit sky,
The mourning clouds take a bow
And roll towards the west.
Mist is settled at my feet,
Reaching up to the sky
Where the daylight is emerging.
A ray of vibrant colors snakes it way down
And touches the earth.
How beautiful!
I walk out and stretch my hands up to the sky,
Realizing that when the storm ends
Everything will be picturesque.