Almost Transparent Blue

How still I am as I watch this sky.
This sky,
With all its moods and sharp edges,
Almost transparent blue to my right
But to my left,
Raging.
I quiet my breath
As layers scrape silently beneath layers
Now spreading out, now surrendering
Before dissolving into the yellow-white light.
The wisteria sighs
The peak of the old shed roof
Is solid and safe
Like hands clasped in prayer.
The wind cuts chasms in this sky
And then shakes her head, smiles
And whips their edges like cream.
I smile too
Even though I cannot lift my head.