How I am soothed by you
Oh, skies of grey.
You are not flashy like the brilliance of a blue and sunny day.
You do not ask for anything of me but to simply be.
You do not warm me with light but you cover me in the soft hands of the clouds,
do not speak, child, you whisper to me,
do not toil in your breathing as you lay in bed half dreaming.

Last night the wind came into my body as I slept,
and my system came alive with feeling as my mind stopped thinking;
although I woke up in the middle of the darkness and looked out,
as if I knew I would be seeing light.
So I closed my eyes and waited for the night to break,
leaving this place as the wind pulled me in my dreamer's curiousity.