Changing Lenses

The sky is a dull blur this morning. At such opaque times, I clean the lens of mind, to see what clarity is behind the gray filters. Surprisingly, I perceive, some last snowflakes have been painted emerald, by thin rays of light, The air appears now, as an ethereal lathe turning the ill-defined into buoyant landscapes. Wiping my glasses, the sky and earth sparkle brighter still, behind a clearer mind.