I lift my gaze from the page.
Looking through the dragon plant,
and the miniature fig tree,
past the rain spattered window pane.
Out into the dusk at mid-day.
The sky is black, the wind chilling,
the rain relentless, daylight scarce.
And just as I think its bad
Mother Nature flashes at my eyes
and unleashes the roaring sound
of a building collapsing,
multiplied a thousand times.
The street lamps fight their hardest
but barely touch the insipid gloom.
I love Nature.
But sometimes, days like today,
make me question that relationship.
So I return my gaze to the page
and write.


© Pagan Paul (21/11/16)