Two days ago the sky was clear. My spirit soared. All was vivid. Children ran and my heart was with them. Peace. All was well. Pain and sorrow took a break. Particles of light flooded the atmosphere. So many that the air couldn't hold them, and turned blue trying. When ink black night moved in, it had to wrestle day to the ground, choking it until day bled a rainbow sunset and expired.
I can welcome the storm blowing in today. A capricious wind wreaks havoc among the leaves. Clouds scud, fleeing and yet gathering. Rain drops are thrown against the windows. Danger hovers near. The probability of sudden change. Possibilities abound.
But then will come the gray clouds. Drifts of semidarkness, piling from horizon to horizon. They will twist slowly, strangling a dripping world, extinguishing the light despite the sun’s heroic efforts. Stillness, but no peace. No color.
Doom will bide its time.