The river of color flows through the sky
weaving its way beneath and between
all that is seen and unseen.
Undulations of colors entwine
the energy of the divine
with the hopes of humankind.
We fear the sky’s fall
bending our knees
hiding our eyes,
until we lose sight
of the wonder of it all.
Motion and change delight
and yet, we cannot grasp hold
of what is before our sight.
And this loss of control over the diversity
and complexity of colorful skies
entraps and belies
a sense of self so small
it frightens us all.
The skies are not falling
simply because its colors shift.
The movement within the sky
can never send us adrift.
Gravity holds us all together,
keeps us spinning, it is true;
but, never allows us to go too far, too fast.
It helps make the moments last
until we can understand
what we stand under,
an open sky which belongs to all.
Look up and behold the sky.
Reach up to touch the clouds.
Dance in the wind, bathe in the rain.
Never lose hope ever again.
annarino writes 