Slowly the skies sing to me,
asking me to appreciate the beauty they bring.
The Portland skies are teaching me to understand their own tune.
Hawaii skies, turbulent and fierce, sang with the intensity of burning blue, tropical downpours, and instant thick rainbows flashing all in one afternoon.
Miami skies sang golden early mornings and crescendoed into heavy thunderstorms that shook the windows every summer.
But Portland weeps her melodies with whispers of rain.
Some days, she belts out an intense blue sky, without a single cloud, bringing every creature outside to see.
Other days she lets the clouds linger a drawn out note that fades into stars.
Her sunsets are often neck-breaking. A thick messy jazz of purple, fuchsia, and gold sung above trees and ancient snowy mountains.
Teach me the patience in listening to nature’s orchestra so I may find the same patience within myself to hear my own jazz.