I'm not so brilliant that the sun,
if forced to shine,
would move in the opposite direction.
Though, there have been days when
I'd swear my presence
"Changeable like the weather."
Forever altering my pattern.
Dramatic shifts in temperature and pressure.
Or temperament and pleasure?
Have you ever noticed how fast the clouds roll by?
Or do they with leisure?
Eagerly, it seems, they gobble up the sky,
as they go, leaving, sometimes behind,
a belch of blue.
Is it always true, we're forever having to make a better show?
Though it may not be in our game plan...
but don't you know
Mother Nature doesn't concern herself with
mortal opinions, but acts only as she pleases?
Most days, I try to do the same.
Spinning on my own tilted axis,
but, sometimes, I'd like to be a Brave New World unto myself.
Miss Weather doesn't concern herself with the "whether,"
she doesn't worry about being misunderstood or if you can or cannot
read her mind.
Nor cares if tempests, tornadoes, hurricanes come across
Free agency is usually lonely.
Even clouds do not wish to wander lonely, but gather singularly
Their tendency, is like humanity
to cluster. Its hard to be the always natural me and make the muster.
If I could be I'd be something that the universe has yet to see.
I might even be nameless for awhile.
But then some foolish scientist, bureaucrat or psychiatrist
would have to make himself famous
by shamelessly naming me to gather honor for
Things sometimes do happen accordingly to others needs.
In life, we are always blowing in the breeze,
and yet...we can all scatter round our seeds... and say
whatever, the weather, the sun, or the stars.
Copyright Wednesday 3;50pm, October 24, 2012, All Rights are Reserved By Author
Melissa A Howells Meloo from her Tilt-a-World