Cloudy Day
The sun is hiding; it does not want to come out and play. No, it is curled up under it’s comfort blanket. With words and a prayer. Contemplating. Will it be bright today?
The clouds touchdown on lips, sink deep, and push back out as thought. They twist in the open air—exposed—and dance into dissolution. But linger on the senses, clinging tight. They hold hope up to the sky to sweet talk the sun awake.
Roused. Blinking. The sun peeks to see what awaits. Vibrant colors contoured perfectly. Gleeful, toothy grins. Bustling movement. Is it time?
The sky rumbles. Crashing down. The sun gets swallowed up, choked on evaporated thoughts. Force fed the dark. It reaches for the blankets, again and again, to block the view. Afraid to be exposed.
Recognizing a familiar face in the vastness, the sun begs for help. Pleading, it silently wails its case. The reflection holds. Unable to be pulled down.
Brightness reflects back, peeling back the haze of clouds. Revealing an infinite light. A day unlike any other.