The skies reek of a certain vastness,
one that can be tenebrous and gloomy, or lustrous in its omnipotence.
I gaze up at it sometimes, letting thoughts scarcely run through my mind.
I let my eyes consider each color on the horizon, and
become confused and fuzzy as the light fades, stars igniting into focus.
At times, the trees can become one with the sky:
their branches reaching into the Heavens, hoping to pull out a piece of the celestial.
Rustling leaves blot out burnished stars.
You may think trees only grow so tall for the stars, their lovers. The starlight
quenches an Evergreen’s thirst that rain cannot.
Under a thick blanket of moon and dim, every sound gets much-deserved attention.
My ears catch crickets singing of desire, or wind fondling the tops of trees.
Yet, as the sun follows its arduous ascent into the fragment of sky I’m gifted with,
another dawn takes place. A dawn of realization.
The beauty that our world has seized and evolved with will always
go unappreciated.
Strangely, the evanescence of a human life is expected, mourned, and understood.
However, the pulchritude of the world shall always be a mystery to one person or
another.
I will forever live in awe of this planet, and in fear of the surrounding universe.
Power pulsates from the earth, shivering the planet into seasons and disasters.
It has always been, and will forever be.
And yet, the world cares so little of me.