The Summer Sky

This sky spreads so proudly wide,
With its frothed whites, its pale bruised greys
And those paintbrush streaks in different shades.
Look up, look up, and feel yourself
Carried away from this, from here,
These blued grimy streets, these groaning cars
That trudge along like lives.
Up and float loose through the vagueness
Those different tones that fringe and blend
And twist and dance like the windy spirit
Which is carried free on the breeze.
It is so tiring here, amongst the solid days,
Of work and routine and ragged noise.
It all aches, dragging at your limbs
Like a deadweight, tearing through thought.
And so up, up, up to that silent sky,
Where meaning softens and love washes in.

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