A morn like yesterday, and the yesterdays before
Awake with indifference, with no reason for more
Until the time came, for what did I see
My words, no more my own, glaring back at me

Tremorous are the tantrums, in the atramental air
I could feel the vibrations, in the clouds forming there
Intense fulgurations, were blinding my sight
While blood boiling thunder, preempted delight

Grieving and seething, were the storms overhead
Leaving no respite, just right out of bed
This witness then wished it, was just a bad dream
‘fore stepping outside, to peaches and cream

The sky was a banquet, of beauty so rare
With sweetness and warmth, I’ll be dining up there
The nightmare was real, the suggestible no lie
Though I’ll feed my head, the comestible I spy

Take bits of my heart, to breed your false affection
Take shards of my soul, but not my confection
Take drops of my blood, to twist your own sentiment
But my peaches and cream skies, I’ll just dust with my peppermint

Now only a bad memory, and the day’s just begun
Saved by the sight of, a cloud adorned sun
Word thieves will be thieving, but I will go high
Instead I will dream of, a peaches and cream sky

Mighty Sequoia

Me: Mighty Sequoia, why is it that in all but the heaviest downpours, your roots remain dry?

Sequoia: It is because the older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve grown, and the deeper my roots burrow into memory far away from the influence of the sky. Only the most unforgiving rain can churn the memories, muddying the soil that time has buried.

Me: …

Me: Mighty Sequoia, I hope one day I’ll have grown as much as you.

Sequoia: For now, little one, suffer not the shade cast by those around you, relish the warmth of life’s fleeting sunbeams; but also, cherish the rain when it falls, for it will surely strengthen your roots, and in time, you’ll have grown beyond your storms.