Were days of number instead
Of named
Ground of thunder and rain
And men
Men lived in clouds instead
Of sand
And the hills reached from under us
The tallest trees scant grass
And we lived all of us godlike the upside down world wouldn't be better
Or the mortals be more mortal for
That is us, merely humans living brutal or humorous or just
Striving for sustenance a meal a
Love to love
A heart to embrace an angel to sing.
A reason to be a hope to obtain
And we closely saints would make
The clouds brown and stained
And the earthen ground below cleansed and beautiful
Do my hymn were I an angel
Would be to live
Your best life
Breathe
And dream of a day the clouds
Accept you
Among them