Red, orange, yellow, blue — it has an ever-changing hue.
Like an intricate canvas, detailed forms danced and flew
Until the storm raged like a bull, and they withdrew.
Now, the morose rain permeates the air and the winds wail in despair.
Nose chapped and cheeks slapped by its harsh blows,
I lay in the dewy meadow, eyes on the sky to forget my sorrows.
Suddenly, I’m shuttering at that imposing mountain that withholds the gem.
I suppose this is how Jack felt looking up that daunting stem.
All I want is to climb, overcome, and find my peace.
And though I try, the moon is still far, the ocean is still vast, and I will not get past that menacing beast.
So I smile, laugh, and bat my eyes, struggling with my self inside.
Until the moment I curl up, limp, and am swept off by the shower’s soothing tide.
Angels with those penalizing trumpets, wolves at the ready, and the faint heat from the fire below.
The trumpets blare. The wolves close in. The flames grow.
Is this really what I must undergo?
No, I refuse. It cannot be true. If He loves some, He loves all.
The clouds part and light shines through. Love knows no bounds and is no fault.
I am full of color. I am full of light. I am the sky.