O' sky do tell your story,
flaunting grace, beauty, and glory!
Laced clouds black, gray, and heavy,
silently awaits command to rain
softly on earth's morning repose.
Birds songs brings memoirs forgone,
churches steeple chimes and throngs.
Only the North wind is visible,
as it blows through maples, pines,
and catalpa trees in the midst of silence.
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excellent poetic thoughts Michael...
John
As a child I would lie on the grass and look up at the sky for hours. It always amazed me and STILL does. Excellent poetry.
Blessings,
~Linda