Gray Morn

The day breaks soft and gray outside the window.  Trees fade into obscurity within short distance.  What passes for a sky, a pewter bowl; featureless and unbroken, just above treetops.  The air, pregnant with moisture, will soon give birth to a misty rain.

A fitting analogy for life: the past fades into the mists of time, the future uncertain beyond a few scrawling’s on a calendar.  Only the right now, right here is clear.

The view can be soothing and beautiful or depressing, depending on your bend. But while gazing upon the surreal visage, bear in mind that above it all the sun shines bright and warm; hidden for a time, but not lost.

2 thoughts on “Gray Morn”

  1. Lovely writing Allan. Like all good writing what you have written confirms what the reader has often thought and does so in such a way as to make it seem more clear, more real and more important. This ‘cameo’ sums up exactly the moments of quiet in which we all perceive more clearly, for a moment, a moment you caught and trapped in a ‘word bottle’, what it’s all about.

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