Gray

I feel like something is missing from these gray days. The sun sheds a natural light on the world that cannot be simulated in any form, while the rain feeds the soil in a way that water from a hose simply cannot. Both of these gifts are comforting in their concreteness and tangible intent. The gray skies are an uncomfrotable crack between two certainties. The winds become stagnant, and the sun seems to have forgotten about us. Fow now, I'm willing the indisctinct clouds to open up and poor out their bountiful gifts.