Above

Staring up towards the ceiling

Outside skies are stormy, reeling,

But here inside I ponder feelings

What is up above?

I see just white and dusty wood chip

If this is it then I am for it

Plain and flat no life around it

Nothing up above.

The rain pours down

My head is pounding

Thoughts go round and round and round, then

suddenly my eyes are found

upon a tiny line.

A line, a crack, so small but growing,

And now it's breaking through,

no slowing

the ceiling turns from white to blue as

plaster crumbles down.

Sitting there now laughter grips me

for not just up but all around me

there is more than the four walls

yes, so much more to see.

I breath in deep, the air is fresh

I'm overwhelmed I must confess

the colour, life, and wonder,

all around and up above.