This Sky

The sky cries down on me.
Does it feel sad?

The sky doesn’t break.
Does it want to?

The sky screams with thunder.
Does it feel pain?

The sky flashes?
Does it have a camera?

I love this sky.
Does it love me?

I hate it to.
Does it hate me?

I feel so safe under this sky.
Does it feel safe with me?

This sky is my home.
This sky is my life.

And I dance to thunderous drums and claps of the water as it falls.