The light burning through the window fades –
every cushion, floorboard and painting
loses colour, the walls merge with the air
and everything becomes a meld of grey and beige.
The rain begins, then the hail.
Ranks of interminable storm clouds throng,
heavy, obscuring the light, refracting it
upwards, away from our hungry eyes –
up into space.
But the earth languishes in beauty
with open, soil-stained arms –
Gaia drinks the sky
as it is her goddess given right
and as she swallows, the smell of spring,
fragrant fresh rain, fills the innocent spaces
between our bones.
Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2020