Poem of the sky

Rain, drip, drip, drips to the motherly earth.
Is the sky crying or just attending its vast tender child?
Nothing more nothing less than drizzling wonder of birth,
or  thunderous noise of the sky running wild.
He needs to embrace her in his powerful arms.
Her blushing cheeks of redness sun,
welcomes the night and the glimmering charms,
and the moon smiles as if she was having fun,
for the mighty sky is with her too.
Is it all a dream, Is it all not true?
For we know he cries in sorrow,
because we hurt the earth we borrow.
We walk like we haven't a clue,
treating his poor baby like there is no tomorrow.
And to think this all started with a peaceful rain.
For this, we truly can't hide our shame.