The goddess of dawn strikes
again, challenging her limits
when she has no need to.
Colored northern winds
conspire at the equinox — behold
this sight of abstract beauty, though
what can be seen can’t always be
touched; furthermore, my hands
don’t belong in the space above.
But I’ll make light
of this darkness.
Scouring the inexplicable view, I know
that in the next minute, I’d question
her unbelievable existence and wonder
about the things I’d give
to learn more about that sky.
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 1:04 PM UTC
The goddess of dawn strikes
again, challenging her limits
when she has no need to.
Colored northern winds
conspire at the equinox — behold
this sight of abstract beauty, though
what can be seen can’t always be
touched; furthermore, my hands
don’t belong in the space above.
But I’ll make light
of this darkness.
Scouring the inexplicable view, I know
that in the next minute, I’d question
her unbelievable existence and wonder
about the things I’d give
to learn more about that sky.
