It used to be blue, sunny, dark or grey,
Sometimes misty or clear,
I could see the sky every day.
It was so big, so wide, a universe,
Blue as ocean with clouds of foam,
That drifted into many shapes diverse.
The sun would shine within her arms,
Warm & safe in cyan cradle,
Offering rays from golden palms.
Other days it would be grey,
Grey as the wing of a sad dove,
Cool, alone & not wanting to play.
At times in anger she would scream,
Not wanting a friend, only solitude,
To be left alone to scheme & dream.
Tears would flood the earth in rain,
From open mouth, spitting bitter wrath,
Relieving her sorry, bitter pain.
Whatever it was, whatever its mood,
The sky was always there, but now,
I seek & search & cannot find the sky anywhere.
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