To Grey Mornings

The sky comes down to meet the earth when the clouds roll in and offer their gift of rain. A misty veil the sky lays at earth's feet, whereat he bends to behold how magnified her clean blades of grass become and shine in the half light; her being rejoices to reflect in vibrant greeness the life poured into dusty fields, the drink offered to roots clinging to earth's many layered bosom, trees swinging in the wind with sighs and old creaky voices as the givers of the bow invoking music from the strings of the orchestra.