Ode to the Sky

Pierced with blue as pure as love 
Folds of sky blended 
With the pink, peach and orange  
Of a lover’s skin by firelight 
Afterglow embers 

Yes, the sky 
Remembers with slow motion joy 
Spreading liquidly 
Like honey across the table 
Of the day, the sky remembers 
Its promises held in stillness 
In the soundless dawn 

Secret promises 
Intimately whispered 
Of the noon of passion’s apogee 
And the pale jewel of the moon’s apology 
For arriving too soon 
Blasted and abashed 
Handless 

Sweet arc 
Blue sweet shell 
Eagerly watching 
The unfolding of the day 
Or hiding 
Behind a cold wet blanket 
Your moods as changeable 
As anyone 

Openness  
Your face defines 
Benevolent shines 
Smiling upon our tiny footsteps 
Baptizing them with rain 
Or white blanket covering 
Your promises revealed 
As they fall  

I could write a million poems about the sky.  Our shield and waterer of our gardens, it keeps us safe and holds the rain.  It is the lens of the sun and the canvas to God’s daily brush.  

As you walk under the clear sky, you feel it smiling ebullient above you and it cajoles you to either be happy or at least to lessen the burden of your sadness.  Or it frowns gray and sullen and life’s possibilities seem to have somehow shrunk away, or like the butterflies gone to hide, hanging upside down beneath leaves.  In summer the blue sky radiates sun and warmth whereas in the winter that same blue sky lets all the Earth’s heat evaporate into space.  Summer clouds promise a permeating rain, but winter clouds promise a fluffy blanket of snow may either roll off the coat or lay there to gradually melt.  There is nothing like an icy rivulet to wake a person.  

At dawn the sun tints the clouds gorgeous as bright pigments slowly spread across the sky, heralding the golden sun’s ascent.  The moon have already set, or may remain, his white face peaceful in great arc.  At dusk darkness gradually bleeds into the blue, as once again in brilliant pageantry the sun descends again below the horizon.  The moon brightens, sometimes tinted yellow or orange at the whim of the sky.  Stars gradually appear as the sun’s influence gracefully exits to warm the Earth from the other side.  

In the north sometimes you can see the aurora borealis dancing and shimmering in shades of green in the night sky.  

The next day brings a new sky, be it filled with clouds or cloudless, warm or cold, wet or dry.  New daily, fresh for your enjoyment - or at least your experience.  Sometimes it coils up like a snake into a tornado or hurricane and throws pieces of our civilization around like a toddler throwing a tantrum throws toys.  Sometimes it throws pellets of ice to flatten your corn or casts down a blanket of ice to break the tops off the trees.  Even the rain that brings life to our gardens sometimes continues to excess, drowning our towns.   

The sky is as changeable as human emotions, and human emotions are also greatly affected by the sky.  Isn’t it much easier to be happy under a blue sky?  When you’re sad, and the sky rains, isn’t it almost as if the sky is crying with you?