Heaven On Earth

on mornings such as today, when a weary someone, with an aching back, a sour mood and an acid tongue, lashes out with atmost certainty of their power, on a little someone who is in awe of a mightier someone with thunder voice and lightening grins and cloudy hair...

u can hear slight sighs through the boughs of the labernum.. as if chiding...

addressing the weary one to pause and recollect of how they made their own mistakes and scraped their own knees on mornings such as these when trying to collect raindrops in leaf cradles.... while the sun waiting to shine behind the clouds stopped for them indulgingly...

and the weary one pauses, perhaps their ears can still perceive subtle hints..

and sighs, shaking their head. indulgingly...