My poem came true

As I lay in bed, gazing up at yet another cloudy day through my skylight, a poem came to me. It was a gift, lifting my spirits, the words coming to me again after what seemed to be such a long absence. And as the day started to wake up, the clouds melted away like cotton candy, and I was blessed with the sunny day I wrote of at the end of my poem.

Sky

 

For days on end

I see a blanket sky

A white shroud above me

Draped over the blue

And the sun hides under the covers

Sometimes the moon peeks out at night

But then it quickly hides again

Along with all the stars

They play hide and seek with me

I hear them giggle like little children

 

Maybe the sky is more like a blank canvas

All raw and white

Ready for the artist to begin

Alright, I will paint the sky purple

Like my purple robe that lays at the end of my bed

No, I’ve decided on blue, the usual color of the sky

Like my blue yoga mat that sits in the corner

But that’s much too predictable and safe

Now the sky becomes bright green

Like the green rain jacket I wear

When the sky sheds its tears

And it cries here quite often

I try not to cry along with it

As I wait for the sky to fold up its blanket

And dazzle me with the true blue brilliance

Of sunny days