Mountainous billowing towers of ivory spill over the upside down ocean, swirling black in the far west.

The emerald sky pulses with life, still the shifting shapes dance in perfect fluid motion unaware, of the ants marching.

Push and pull, light and dark collide in ecstasy, Hephaestus’ hammer falls, as fire flies to the woods above, burning the sky.

Some have graced the lowest tips of the stone their forms broken in it’s jagged granite hands or swallowed by cavernous mouths.

As dusk draws them into the dark and breaking horizon; we will rise in the east and dance again from one end of the blue to another.

Breeding new colors in our ranks at each beginning, the star rages beneath us.

We weep, our tears pulled to the sky, blanket the valley heights and return to us like breath.

All of this by the Maker’s hand was designed, even the life of a cloud.