Beauty Before the Night’s Storm


Looking Up

They call me a dreamer
Reprimand me for gazing at the stars
Keeping my head in the clouds

They tell me to stay grounded
To always look down

But I will never stop looking up
Never stop watching the sky

I may be a dreamer
I’ll never lose my sense of wonder
I’ll make sure I stay in the clouds
Make sure my eyes see the stars
Feel heaven’s wind on my face
Relish in the sun’s warm shine

I’d much rather be caught looking up
Than be stuck looking down

Sunset After Rain

Rain shower moved past
Sun descends into the West
Heavy curtain of clouds parting
Fluffy undersides tinted peach
The rest glowing pleasant gray
Glimpses of deepening blue sky
A breathing painting revealed
As beautiful as beauty itself
Designed by God’s own hands
Completely changed from morning
Completely changed every night
As identical as snowflakes
Full circle sun spreads warmth
Bathing land in orange and pink
Sky remaining momentarily blue
Intense cotton candy from fairs
Equally delicious to the eyes

Chasing the Storm

A cloak made of cumulonimbus
Comprised of total darkness
Spreads its grasp across the sky
Blanketing out any appearance of light
Until electricity reveals itself
Flashing and dancing with gangling fingers
Reaching for a hasty contact
Charring most of what it touches
Even if only for a moment
The blink of mortal eyes
Still, the atmosphere cries
Sheds its tears upon those down below
Denied because of its lethal tangency
Grief becomes rage rather swiftly
Single drops merge into a flood
Gusts of breath ripping apart what once was
Whirlwinds decimating all in its path
Rumbling anguish shaking bones
Fulminations searching for new victims
The atmosphere no longer distinguishing
Potential friend from foe
Unable to decipher within its emotion
Tumbling from one destination to the next
With ever-growing potency
Dragging itself from corner to corner
Until the land has ended
And it drowns itself
In a body larger than its own
Content at last
For the ocean cannot be burned
Even provides companions for the gales
Rises to greet the tempest
The embrace of forces that cannot be tamed

Blossoming Morning

The morning begins in midnight blue
A fresh day barely waking
Then light glitters on the horizon
A new color palette making

The sun peeks onto the sky
Bringing forth deserved life
Then filling the world with warmth
Chasing away night’s strife

The midnight blue fades away
Revealing pastels of dawn
Then the floodgates open
The morning in full blossom