My first sight of knowledge

I try to sit and evaluate each passing moment-
which until now I had under appreciated.
I look out through the French doors, the sun
is rising up until the clouds are emerged in
deep orange, illuminated further by a pastel
violet, settling like mist in the air on a cold
winters morning. I realise, it's the wind who
cries, sighs, breaks its fist against the city's
concrete walls, not just you or I.