The Sky Is Crying

The sky is crying and so am I.  It’s that kind of a day.  Cold, rainy, gloomy, depressing…the hint of spring we were beginning to catch glimpses of is all but swept away and hidden beneath heavy winter coats, breath fog and involuntary shivering.  I’m so ready for spring…but spring is not yet ready.

I find that in the darkness of this day, in the unrelenting rain, in the bone-chilling wet and piercing cold, I have nothing more to say.  My voice is gone.  I am broken and empty.  All I can do is let my tears join those of the raindrops the clouds are crying.  Words are often inadequate vessels and today they leave me cold and alone, seeking a flower where there is none.  In this wintry, lonely place, I have no words.  My tears must do the talking for me.

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