The sky empties its womb
into the November night
in light burst limbs that reach
through eternity to glitter
eyes hungry for wonder.
Monotony, war, the mudslide
of divide is the swamp dreams
walk from sunrise to sunset.
Bloodshot eyes travel the rift
searching for a miracle and heaven
gathers every orphaned stone
into fire streams to delight the forlorn.
Thanksgiving builds its nursery
beneath the arch of stars,
willing hearts bend toward gratitude.
Comments
Anna :o]
A delightful poem which captures something of the wonders which still arrive from the sky and heavens.
Perhaps more enjoyable than the increasing disturbances of destruction on earth..
Something special about the wonders from the sky...then the increasing disturbances on earth..Sky gazing is the way!!