The sky is like a deep endless sea of blue. While it looks calm and beautiful, it can suddenly turn dark and merciless in a split second. It was always terrifying the way the clouds would become gloomy shadows and the sky itself would suddenly be painted pitch black. The clouds would then spiral together and form a whirlpool. It looked murky, filled with anger and hatred. Then there would be flashes of lightning, followed by loud booms of thunder. It was as though the sky itself were lashing out angrily at the people, throwing a tantrum and the wind would follow in tune. It was almost as though it was the sky’s hand and mouth. It was used to slap and whack everything and also used to howl and screech.

 

             While most would recognize the wind as a gentle and soft breeze that was fun and delightful to have around, the one that was here now was anything but that. Much like the dark whirlpool of clouds up in the air, the sky extended its hand and formed a tornado from within the dark abyss of clouds above. Stretching down to touch the ground, that tornado would crash into anything and mercilessly tear it apart. It had no care for others or anything and it simply did as it pleased. The flashes of lightning would suddenly become deadly. With a roar of thunder, the lightning would then join the wind, crashing into the ground with a loud boom, shaking the very foundation of the world, leaving burning scorch marks behind. Those marks will never fade as a reminder of the sky’s anger. Then rain would follow. Oft time it would be a light drizzle, signalling the sky’s sadness. However, when it was pouring a torrent of water, it was furious to the point of frustration. It was bad when the sky cried for too long for it would flood the land with its tears and drown those who could not manage the sky’s anxiety. Sometimes, in great anger, the sky would stretch its hand and create maelstroms in the deep ocean and shift the salty sea water, forming large waves that crash furiously onto the shore. On occasion, the sky would create a dark vortex combined with everything, the shadowy clouds mixed with water and wind. That would truly be the time to rue one’s own existence. It was terrifying to look at directly and it struck fear straight to the heart.

 

              Yet, when the sky’s anger quelled and the storm abated, the feeling that came afterwards was most gentle. The sun would shine softly, painting the sky a warm colour and filling the heart with pleasant feeling of hope and change. The clouds would turn white, puffy and lazy once more as they slowly float in the sky cheerfully. The ocean of water would be calm and soothing while the wind would be playful and breezy. The sky was much preferred this way, happy and light hearted if compared to the torrent of unbending anger it could unleash. Staring into a dark void that thundered and spun into nothingness filled the mind with gloomy shadows and made one feel insignificant, helpless and empty. It would be much more pleasant to stare into the vast expanse of blue that softly encompassed the mind in a soft blanket. The sky was indifferent in nature for it was neither gentle nor savage. It could not understand nor feel love or sympathy. It had no concern for the feelings of others, was blunt and merciless, but also kind and selfless. To take it for granted would be a mistake, an oversight made in ignorance, an insult made in arrogance. It was always better to have the sky as your sweet apathetic friend than your savage and ruthless enemy.