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.