Looking through the window panes
Onto the blue skies of your eyes
I content myself with counting clouds
And shaping them within my mind

But sometimes those skies turn gray
The clouds blending into other shades
And rain pounds mercilessly against this home
A holy ark awaiting sunny days

The panes are stained and decorated
With tales of the current storm
Only instead of olive leaves
We send out crows looking for thorns

I reach out ,but glass keeps away
These mortal hands from reaching to 
Celestial tears coating the lands
And blessing them with morning dew

I await the breaking of gray tides
For infinity to become individual numbers
So I may count the clouds aloud
Until I fall into a dreamless slumber