The Fields Are In the Clouds

My God!
I stumbled onto a broken wine glass today,
It spelt a story of a broken heart,
Of a broken relationship,
A broken link.

The hills were sympathetic,
They cried for the glass.
But splintered glass cuts and it
Hurts. Ouch.

The sky was empathetic,
He poured a paint of colours
Over the western horizon

And lit the fields with a brillant
Spectrum that hovered on the ocean.

But no one could see the light that shone
Oh so bright,
For the fields that were glowing,
They were in the clouds.