Setting the sky ablaze, was twilight’s rhythmic dance;
Each section painted tints, unique in its own way,
Uniformity, was not on the menu for today.
On one side, were the pastel shades of orange, pink and
mauve,
Spreading calm and content, with its own Southern suave;
On the other, were small little fragments, patches of
grey stormy clouds,
Forming an inscrutable jigsaw, shrouding sky’s clear blue
tones.
When the clouds fought a battle, and crashed to strike a
harsh light,
Before the bellowing rumbling thunder, count to ten you
might;
Raging rain, poured all over the town, much like a scorned
spouse,
Fragrance of freshly watered earth, hints of smells,
familiar to one’s nose.
My eyes were drawn then, to the star of the show,
To that section of the sky, holding a feisty fiery gilded
glow;
Like rebellious flames, the golden-rays danced their last
dance,
Peeking through the horizon, before night cast over, its final
glance.
While I was taking all this in, over the stunning blue ridge mountain
views,
The range loomed, alone unaffected, untouched by the sky’s confusion
on hues;
Standing sturdy, strong and bold, its guileless beauty thrives,
Teaching that, in a confusing storm, we need to strive to be, a resilient
mountain that survives!
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