the ground I stand on may be young
but the sky, oh, the sky
painted by the brush of time, infinite and vivid tapestry so hung
is it any surprise we dream to fly?
a carefree dance with the sun so high
spreading light and cheer to the world
darkness, a silent, soft embrace
how splendidly she glitters, has she been told?
technicolor paintings of galaxies long gone
the eyes blessed to see
no camera, no lens laid upon
can tell these stories that one must see
a million colors and incomprehensible depth
play tricks on my eyes
the fabric of time, so mistakenly close
the reach lost to a million tries
ever so slowly she sways
a celestial movement unnoticed
i am but an animal, living on a fast ball of stone and dirt
in her sight, I come alive with awe and wonder
but she will never know this
Words and structure fail me
a man far too inferior to comprehend
beauty, chaos, destruction and life, all I can see
don't you agree with me, my friend?
The night sky, the epitome of grace
she has seen all there is to see
to truly understand how small we are, there is no better place
all you must do is look up and breathe