When the dawn breaks
The frosty winter night,
Shattering it into
A thousand pieces,
Like glass,
The sky turns from
The deepest star-flecked
Black to a clear,
Wistful gray.
I've never seen
A more hopeful color than gray.
Right at the moment,
Close your eyes,
Hold your breath.
It's silent.
The sky that afternoon
Was a clear, bright blue.
The kind that only comes
On the purest summer days.
The wind picked up
My hair and tossed it
Across my eyes,
And I couldn't see for a moment.
The breeze was pleasant.
But with the wind,
The clouds spilled like ink
Across the sky,
Twisting it into
A disgusting yellowed gray,
Like the cold skin
Of the old and dead.
The gray was imposing,
Ominous.
I've never seen a more
Sickly color than gray.
But right at that moment,
A second before the sky
Opens up and throws
Rain and lighting
Down to earth,
Close your eyes,
Hold your breath.
It's silent.
If you are quiet,
You'll hear the silence.
It's always the sound of change.
If you are watching the sky,
Gray will always show the shift.
Close your eyes,
Hold your breath,
And don't be afraid.