The sky had turned grey
Hanging dense, heavy clouds
Just here above my head
They're more of a steel blue-grey
Over the horizon though
Must be different over there
Ferocious winds whip whitecaps
On a now grey-blue sea
Everything just got a little wilder
It's cold and rough out there
But like the inner seas in me
Unsettled and disturbed
Something stirring and churning
Restarting and complaining
And it's trying my patience
I feel weathered and worn
Washed up and tired of...
Whatever I imagine I'm doing
Which becomes the reminder
That the point was about Being
Whether blue skies or grey
So I stay with the rumble
Tip my hat to my grumbles
And put on the pot for some tea.
26th Aug.
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