The high shining,
Dazzling from the sky.
Hurting the eye with that piercing glare.
Reflecting from sparkling seas
Which shimmer in the gentle breeze.

Reflecting and reflecting
From diamantine spires.
Echoed on the blackest night
By radiant cities
Lit by glimmering lights.

Our Gods hover over us,
Incandescent in their glory.
Their bright wings shimmer and shine,
Inspiring us to greater things.

Yet let us not forget
That all this blazing brilliance
Is everywhere:
Even in those shadow lands
Where ordinary people
Go about their daily grind.

Even though we sit in sheltered rooms
Bathed only by some television light
Or laptop luminescence,
If we but open our inner eyes
We can see
That the world is not as prosaic
As it seems.

Paul Butters

© PB 20\8\2018.