Dark Below, Light Above

I
We race through cloud-enshrouded streets,
Caught at stop lights, ensnared by ticking clocks,
Rushed evening meals, and late arrivals.
He eats alone, sour sustenance, the family no more.
The rains. Days of rain. Weeks of rain.
Endless drops from clouds, soaking, unabsorbed,
Muddying the waters, sending rivulets through the garden,
Sweeping away last autumn's dead flowers
Down the driveway into the gaps of the waffle-covered
Storm drain that spills into the sea,
To be eaten by a crab who discards a starfish
And then is consumed by a seagull
When the waves draw back.

II
We know it exists above that gray ceiling,
Intuitively know, if we look but do not think:
An eternal sunny day without horizon,
As important in the loftiness of air as within
The soft, subtle chambers of our tender hearts.
Let the blue find its ways into its darker regions
To unburden us, unchain us.
What could matter more?
We should feel that it shines always up there,
Even on this dark day, an enduring and enchanting blue.
And yet we get caught up in the mind's indifference,
The incessant back and forth, the ups and downs,
Missing the moment when the sun splays the clouds.