I saw the blue skies as I walked down the road to my house. I saw them there, peeking through the slithering cottony clouds. It was hard and cold and blue and all I wanted to do was forget it. I wanted it all to just go away and become dark and ominous...maybe turn and revive itself into a different cheerful hue for a different story.
But it didn't. That painful hard blue sky, it stayed there and it looked at me. I thought I could turn away and I did for a moment. I trudged up the muddy embankment to my little brick house. I sat upon the lawn chair a moment and looked down at my running shoes. There were holes there, one in the toe and two on each side above the sole. This was my right foot, indeed, and it seemed I had been kicking about a bit as I was running. I had marred and destroyed my shoes in a quest to kick all the fire out of my soul.
But the blue sky reached down and reminded me that he was still there.
What does it mean? What does it matter anyway. If the blue sky cannot be possessed then why does it get to come by and remind me that it is much too far away to touch? In the cold dead lull of winter, why does the blue sky taunt and tease about how dreadfully lonely it is when it is gone.
On those days when it is dark and I have to take my vitamin D and take deep breaths to stay alive, why does it matter at all? The blue sky is gone then and outside things look gray.
They all look gray.
Happiness isn't wrong and it is fulfilling. But I want to shoot an arrow into the blue sky and see if I can inflict any pain there and maybe it will stop watching me when I run.
It will stop deceiving me and I will know that it is still winter and cold...cold as a dead heart.