The sun pokes through lazy moving cloud, spreading its glory on the meadow below.
A warm breeze carrying music only dancing flowers can hear.
All signs of God present and accounted for.
A perfect day to just sit and watch.
Sipping lemonade on the back porch with sis.
Basking in all their glory.
Healthy, happy, loving, yet to her, incomplete.
A warm heart perhaps but not a full one.
One cannot help where the mind wanders.
Especially when in tow of the heart.
Thoughts turn to a barren uterus, a black pear unable to bear fruit.
A natural mother unable to conceive.
Tears once standing now starting to flow.
Let it not once more ruin the day.
As if on queue, dark thoughts accompanied by darkening skies.
Sun blotched out then smothered entirely.
Wind picking up, starting to howl.
Red eyes glow hot from a stand of trees, skirting the meadow.
More howling, not the wind this time.