calm the beautiful blue mornings, green calm growing pastures
I meditate passionately viewing, white visions floating on
until some afternoons, on a horizon unexpectantly, out of the prettiest
cyan grows grey storms.
Heat builds, rises rapidly condensing moisture,  particles charge,
cyan dims to black; the world arises angrily.
Me and the sun hide hidden, the dark horizon growls. Flashes,
and thunder roils on awakening fears.
When she calms down, I meekly peek again, see a peaceful cloud and cyan
calmness.
Summer calm   blue green.
Red blonde clouds blowing free.
Again.