A Silent Sky
- Jun 6
- 2 min read
by Lexi Jones
The sky tipped out the rays from the sun, gleam sprayed throughout crowds of people who forgot to appreciate rain.
She now stays dry, hoping to abide by their wants, conforming to their needs, dressing up in white clouds and blue hues, with white yellow warmth shimmering across acres of greenery.
Flowers began to forget their names, reaching high upward just to wait for a single drop.
Rivers run low, shrinking day by day, anticipating emptiness.
But it’s not about drought.
It's about the shift in natural order,
all to please a demographic who speak before they think.
If the sky doesn’t cry, everybody is satisfied.
They hated her storms, so she silenced them.
But they never thanked her for staying quiet.
She tried to be beautiful, but they don’t even look up.
She sees everything happening down below.
The earth cracking. The fires rising. The air polluting.
But she just wanted to be loved.
Even when it risked harming herself.
She was afraid of who she used to be.
Loud. Too much.
She misses the thunder, the lightning,
the cold drops that used to fall from grey clouds.
But she stays still.
Like they want her to. Soft, with a smile.
Still, something stirs, pressing on her ribs with remembrance, not disturbance.
Like she’s recalling her truth, her own needs.
Not out of anger,
but the sincerity of who she was
before she made herself feel so small.
She doesn’t want to be feared again.
She doesn’t want to hear the sighs of being disliked or avoided.
But the sky blinked,
in an intense form of a test.
Just a drop.
And people looked.
They actually smiled.
She blinked again.
It wasn’t a downpour.
It wasn’t pouring.
But it was enough.
Enough for the wind to move around.
Enough to smell its memory.
The rivers didn’t rush immediately,
but they stopped shrinking.
The flowers stopped straining.
They relaxed again.
No one ran.
No one hid.
Some even danced.
Kids played in puddles.
So she stayed like that.
Somewhere in the middle of silence and song.
A little loud.
A little soft.
Her own version of who she herself wanted to be.
💚💚💚