I and the Sky

I was always bright in the August sun.
I was always fierce in the storm.
Thrilling and haunting, I was in the mist;
And kind, when the evenings were warm.

But joy is occult in my face and my soul
As I sit staring up at the sky
I hold my breath, and she holds her breeze
And the sun expectantly shines

"Oh, sister, your eyes are blacker than coal.
And your spirit is heavier still.
Stolen from me by a shattering heart
And stolen from you by his will"

And the skies opened up, and my eyes overflowed
In mourning for innocent love
Pallid and glowering - stormy and grey
In anger, again were were one