On evenings when the breeze is chill, <br />trees cower 'neath the gloomy skies; <br />that seem to darken up at will, <br />Anger in their glowering eyes. <br /> <br />Trees hasten then to shade the earth, <br />from the black wrath of the clouds; <br />that onward march without a dearth, <br />like giant omninous dull grey shrouds. <br /> <br />Then a flicker of a spark burns bright, <br />way beyond this morbid screen; <br />A radiant sheen, sliver of light, <br />that turns the sky mellow, serene. <br /> <br />What draws us to that tiny spark? <br />That vows to light up all our dark?<br /><br />Roann Mendriq<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/moody-skies/
