Raindrops and A Prayer

The wind blows incessantly, feral and free,

Shadows cast their spell as clouds are whisked away

To places beyond the last piece of sky you can see,

In a blissful merger of blue with grey.

Verses seem to travel from near and afar,

Riding on the backs of the storm and the rain

Colors smudge across this endless azure canvas

That strives to drown the qualms and the pain.

The storm provokes prayers, silent and strong -

Questions the foundations of tomorrows we’ve laid…

And in the spaces between the flurry of raindrops

I think of memories that are yet to be made.