I love grey skies. I celebrate the melancholy of them.

I know that many may count this a fault.

How can you love something so depressing?

How do you not feel blue at the sight of so much grey? I am asked.

So I respond.

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How can you not feel amazed at its beauty?

Can you no longer remember that feeling of waking up to deep grey skies?

That feeling of having your heart clothed with sweaters woven with clouds?

That feeling that brings you back to your very human essence?

That feeling that makes you realize that life is full of choices? Between feeling blue or bright yellow?

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I respond.

How can you not be impressed by its empathy?

Remember that it took up the tears of a billion other creatures.

And became so pregnant with the sorrows of humanity.

Have you forgotten that the sky is only telling you to pray?

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I respond.

This grey sky you see is a marvel and a wonder.

This grey sky you see is a presence and a reminder.

This grey sky is calling you to rest. It is calling you to empathy.

It is calling you to feel.

I love grey skies. I adore the melancholy of them. How about you?

~ Poem by Sandra C. Obiora (2.6.18)

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