In the valley
this morning,
alone,
all I could see
were grey overcast clouds.
Like mush,
they squatted
and settled,
heavy and low,
on the mountains
shutting out all light,
enveloping in gloom.
Suddenly,
over a canyon,
a cloud break appeared,
splitting the blanket,
enlightening the entire
depression-bound valley
with a blaze of golden light.
It was
not blinding,
but illuminating
and uplifting
and exciting
and invigorating.
Like the grass you walked through;
like your shimmering lake-side hair;
like your late-summer skin;
like your I-see-you! smile;
like the way you make me feel
even
when you think you don’t.
