I wake to the sun, cursing the late hour and the summer shine,
Wishing it was dark enough for me to sleep.
Eventually, rising, the wind is low and sweet
A summer morning enticing me but still,
I am too occupied to emerge and breathe the fullness of the air
The day passes on, the sun playing games of hide-and-seek from behind the clouds
It’s good at this game, the sun, and I am losing.
White-blue-yellow-grey, its always grey
The wind has picked up now, in a nice way,
It lets me work away in comfort, in joy, music with birds chirping, soft dry grass
By afternoon all hope is lost,
The brightest grey, blinding almost,
A mishmash of shapeless cloud in shades of white and darker
Ever-changing, overcast comfortable beauty followed by an unforgiving lashing.
The rain whips against my face, but I embrace its warmth and innocence
At some point, I give in
Dropping to my knees I ask what I am doing
Here under this undecided madness
Who am I trying to fool here, succumbing to the ruffian mists of the West
You promise me nothing, only change, only a vastness that blends with the sea
Evening comes and turns pink in its insatiable anticipation,
Purples that remind us of our humanity.
Stillness, finally, with a touch of gold and total love.
A longing now for the night, blackest night,
An escape that was surely made for people like us.