Beyond What We Can See
As I watch my feet slowly turn to shadows,
And dissolve into the vastly stretching void of darkness,
I can feel chills racing up and down my spine.
Another breath of the frosted wind sweeps over me.
I look up to the sky, and see the moon smiling back ,affectionately
Somehow it seems to whisper to me
“You are not alone.”
I smile back at the moon,
But now I wonder “What lies beyond my new found friend?”
I gaze up at the stars,
That have been sprinkled across the sky like silver glitter;
Scattered across the ever stretching abyss,
Like snowflakes on a velvet blanket.
Somehow they seem to whisper to me
“You are not alone.”
I smile back at the stars,
But now I wonder, “What lies beyond the stars?”
Somewhere far in the distance,
Beyond what my eyes can even perceive
There are venturesome comets,
and wildly swirling galaxies, still yet to be explored.
There are mystifying places that man has never even seen.
There must be marvelous baffling puzzles somewhere far in the distance,
Beyond what my eyes can even perceive.
As I turn back, I thank my God for stretching forth the heavens.
They may never be explored,
but they will also never be forgotten.
God alone knows the secrets that lie
Beyond what we can see.
They swallowed her
diaphonous feathers of watery beads ascend from the earth;
rising heavily. they whirl into the sun's realm as she sits on her throne.
her polished fiery gold crown, twinkling in sparks of honey, glow
rings of waters rest her in their presence, her burning hands resting among
their cooled backs. screams of whimpering pain strum their numb vocal chords,
cries only their heart can hear. after all, they are mere vibrations.
she presses harder, and they groan in despair, drips
of sweet sweat, slip off their necks; carrying the weight of themselves
and her. the sky bystands close by, helplessly blanketing the Sun as she
drapes over the ignorant world. Of course they
don't see their pain, because in the end
she's the queen. no matter how mystical the clouds are, nor
how alluring the royal blue's sky is, she's the sun, the adored star,
this world depends on.
but today was different, the clouds guzzled the sun
engulfing her beautiful rays in their tiny stomachs. it scorches
their cramped intenstines, burning. but they hold it in, stretching their backs
their united cracks of each bone feel so satisfying. they devour
the once-blue sky, for not alleviating them, when they needed it most,
in their mouths. plunging it down their throat, it suffocates them
but they stow it away.
today, I finally saw the clouds swell to where one's eye could reach.
their each wave caught hearts; they're silvery shade, mesmerizing.
of course, I know, the day'll come and the Sun and sky will rule
above again, but for this breath,
I will dance under threads of water instead of sunlight,
because they swallowed her.
I Think There’s a Metaphor Here
The sky is nothing more than a stormy gray.
Pale gray clouds cover every inch of visible sky, high above the crooked and broken trees reaching up towards it.
The barest purple tint can be noticed by the observing eye, but no one looks up for more than a second. No one notices anything more than a storm gray.
White flakes gleefully drift downwards, a fluffy dust on shovelled sidewalks, and a blanket on the coated ground. All coming from the unnoticed sky, doing so much to gather attention.
No one ever looks up anymore, for but the barest second. No one notices the purple glow or the flawless sheet.
No one notices that the sky is more than a stormy gray. Not even I.
The sky I see
I don’t see the sky, because all I see is a sky repalced by my visions, a vision of so many twinkling stars, stars that will shine for eternity.
The sky is a feathered mass of down tonight
like the kind you might find in your pillow
soft, billowing, goose-gray tufts
meld with luminous swan white
gracefully backlit by the moon’s distant gaze.
Happiness is an afterthought
sadness a second-hand notion
the sky isn’t thinking tonight
she just is, while her
flight across the limitless expanse
takes her round and round,
a ceaseless migratory circuit
over a darkly contemplative world.
I wish it looked like this^
But grey nebulousity covers the burning firmament.
Some night soon I hope.
Soft and subtle, a single dull color.
Preparation for a storm to sneak up and uproot a mess of calm living and quiet sleeping. Knowing rain will deepen the sleep anticipated. Snow will relieve rain shift, and cause hazard the morning coming. Our skies will tell it all.
I can't see the sky.
is it weeping for me
as my weight
trapped within the creases of
a violet haze
sparkling with silvery
whispers of starlight
Night / Day
They say night and day are opposites,
But here they all look the same.
Always the same shade of gray
As dismal as the walls in my brain.
Is it night or is it day?
Time to sleep or time to play?
There's no way to decide
When you look outside.
The great sky's emotions are impossible to read.
I admit it, a little bit like me.
The sky is always the same shade of gray.
If you look at it too long, it makes you wonder
Am I colorblind?
Maybe I'm missing out on a perfect shade
Maybe the sky is the purest blue,
Or the most purple twilight.
Maybe the sky is pink with rising sun,
Or orange with the sunset.
It could be a rainbow of colors,
Shining in the sky.
It could be a beautiful portrait,
One that will dazzle onlookers for years to come.
It could be colorful,
But all I see is gray.