- Books, Literature, and Writing
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
Yes, the sky
Remembers with slow motion joy
Like honey across the table
Of the day, the sky remembers
Its promises held in stillness
In the soundless dawn
Of the noon of passion’s apogee
And the pale jewel of the moon’s apology
For arriving too soon
Blasted and abashed
Blue sweet shell
The unfolding of the day
Behind a cold wet blanket
Your moods as changeable
Your face defines
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?