Squinting through Blue Sky
So today I nearly touched it. It was there, I could feel, no, see, well, anyway. A sense. A sense of clouds parting and seeing through to the blue skies. What everyone has been talking about. It made sense, it was clear, perhaps. It was so delicate though, like I did not dare look at it in case it disappeared.
It disappeared, of course. The clouds crashed back together, and a heavy storm is raging once again. But I am left with that knowledge that it might be out there after all. It was like gossamer, I could not hold or study it. It is hard to try and see through the clouds again. I worry by looking too close I will see that I was wrong. It is not blue sky. An illusion. There are more and other clouds I have simply missed. I feel, I fear, that this must be the case.
Walking back carrying the rain within my chest, the wind howling inside my head, my feet and legs made of cloying, heavy, sinking sands, I knew. This once more was a mirage, a false dawn, I can leave no cliché unturned.
Once more. Questions, castling through my mind, do I have no answers? Only time will tell, it is said. But I know. I know the answers are held within those clouds, and time will play out as I see it, bleak and unrelenting; it is written in the clouds.
Wolleken.
Today I wrote between 23:43 and 23:53. I was prompted by an idea here. My other writings here. All my prompted writing here, my tweets here, and my book here.
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Prompted 