Dark skies greeted by open fields are what are in my line of vision, along with blank pieces of paper waiting to be covered.
As I sat, the hollowness of the tree I was relaxing under wailed, clearly the sound wanted to be filled. Moments later I turn only to look at unblossomed flowers without an aroma, what a pity.
All these things I could change with a touch of my hand, I think while biting into a blackened scone I had naively bought from a deserted café.
The scone displeasing as it was; was gone in a flash. Once again looking down to the paper I got discouraged.
No inspiration, the fields were nothing more than grass, flowers and emptiness.
The sense of undesire set in, but soon turning into calmness.
Thunder roared, and lighting crashed.
The lightning was as if it were not harmful and destructive, but easing and beautiful
The rain drizzled down even more forceful,
I couldn’t grasp the feeling this scenery now made,
I took it all in, not caring about the lack of inspiration because it was washed away by the magic of the rain.
The tree that had been so hallow was now being crowded with little animals that cared for it, for shelter.
The flowers that had been so down and without a scent now were being coated by the smell of rain; and as the rain continued to fall upon the flowers they started to blossom into what they were always meant to be.
Without ever realizing it, I had picked up my pencil and began sketching this beautiful feeling. My mind was focused on the paper, but my soul was engulfed in the nature.
Soon I came to reality and once more looked at the blank paper, which had been covered for sure,
The storm began to slowly resign,
But forever in my mind it would be mine,
In the end everything that had once been unfulfilled and missing, now were showing their true colors,
Sometimes I guess all you need is the smallest of miracles.