Nature Therapy

The sky roils; gray clouds boil
to deliver me a cup of sunlight
Mother's brew
Nature's coffee
rejuvenating me
since I can't hear Heaven
when the tea kettle boils
inside, trapped
and staring at the ceiling
of my mind-- it's too low, weighed
by survival; I fight
but I also want to fly
through the hairline fractures in this ceiling
to bathe in a clear sky, crisp as water
Bask in mellifluous sunlight