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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1403191
A reflection in free verse form
"What color is the sky?", I asked.
"Blue" the child replied.

"That's right" I said.
That's right... sometimes.

This morning I looked into the eastern sky
as Sol arose from his cold Atlantic bed.
The gray predawn was pushed westward
and yellow gold became the sky's primary color.

The sky on cloudy days is gray
And on a rainy night is black,
On a clear night, strewn with diamonds.

Standing on the sacred mountain
I watched the sun descend into the west
As the sky was filled with red
And the clouds became purple.

We see the sky dressed in many colors
And we accept and love them all.

The sky, from whence sun and rain
Fall upon the earth,
Giving life to every plant and creature.

Can we learn to accept and love
People like the sky?
© Copyright 2008 Wayne Gallant (wayneg at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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