Clouds still hung dark.
Gray skies opened to lighter shades
Showing pinks, reds and oranges
As sun set for evening.
I looked at splash of color,
Thinking what has
Been passed down through generation: “Red skies at night, sailors delight; Red skies in morning, sailors take warning.”
A saying I’ve heard so many times.
It always seems to to ring true.
I hope tomorrow skies will be blue.
Rain splatters upon the deck
Striking a click splat as I gaze out
Why do birds still chirp when rain comes down?
I watch sitting in a wicker chair under covering outside
Spring begins to come alive
I see buds ache to open into flowers
Waiting for trees to soak water through their roots
I can almost see water snaking through their veins
Rushing to meet the budding flowers demands
It’s damp and I begin to shiver
Spring still tries to thaw itself out
I stand up to feel the cool rain against my face
And open my mouth to taste the fresh cool drops it offers
I close my eyes and enjoy what’s given
Sweet smell of rain perfumes before me
As sweet the scented pine cones at winter
I stay long enough to soak myself to a relaxing state
Until the rains turn into driving sheets
Which force me inside before the raindrops
Begin to pelt their beatings on my face
Rain patters against windows
Leaves become heavy with raindrops
Branches begin to sag under weight
Until the rains stops
Sun comes out to dry
Raindrops soak into leaves
Leaving the leaves to raise
Branches from their sag position