Weatherman

If the sun in the sky
should set the past in
clouds that brim the morning;
Turbulent in the middle of yesterday
and usually gone by afternoon.....
Then the sky was blue
as the color of your eyes
tangible in my refinement.
Stay strick.
It's always as unpredictable as the weather.

Come day, go day
as there seems to be nothing new,
but it's a whistle in the air that blew
quite loudly enough
to draw all the foggy dew;
trembling in steamy tea leaves
and those who
evidently
know you.
Can you predict the future?
No.
But trust as those bright horizons will ensue
as a bolt of lightning
or hurried engagements brought forth who
will celebrate your new day
and said they will see you through.
Trust is a prediction.
I spend much time betting it all
on everything uncertain.

My dear weatherman,
I said it's been storming
and you replied with half of a forecast.
I am clearly waiting to step outside
to hear engaging silence,
and a warm breeze to wrap my head around.
I'd settle just for an overcast
 so I can be the one
who
dared to stand against
 a force of nature...
 Be sure to tell me if there seems to be a storm up ahead.
Take cover and shield me when I can't get out of my head,
and we will be fine.
Just never,
and I mean ever
lie about weather.