Last night we went to look at the stars because it said stuff online about atmospheres and meteors and things falling and seeing lovely things and the sky .
But the sky was half-way covered with clouds.
The thick gray kind.
The thick gray kind that warm the city up.
The thick gray kind that prevent you from any sort of star seeing.
(it was
almost like the smell of snow.
almost. the snow is coming soon...and the thick gray clouds is how I know).
This morning I woke up really early, before any color was in the sky.
My dreams still close from sleep.
I sat in my living room and from the corner of my eye, that color began to show up.
It started out cool and slowly lit on fire.
"Red skies in morning, sailors fair warning"
repeated in my thoughts
as I sat there. Studying.
Or trying to.
And while sitting there I read something about "praising the insignificant."
How, in being an honest person, you give praise to what is seemingly insignificant.
That lingered in my thoughts (the ones full with red skies).
By praising the significant,
don't you give it significance?
By writing something down, complimenting it, noticing it,
don't you give that
thing
(whatever it may be)
power?
love?
worth?
meaning?
The sky set the leaves on fire. And my window was a picture of all that is significant.
