Where is this heavenly road leading?
Will its sheer beauty take me to the
Happy knowledge that surpasses all
Things earthbound? I want to realize
The allure of the world in its wonders.
Is this the way to the end of the world?
I am an atheist and will not acknowledge
This sort of transcendence but am so
Happy for you that you are pulled to
The spiritual, knowing your way on a
Highway to heaven, a road to nowhere.
The path that leads you to everywhere.
Where does this beautiful road lead?
Buildings, normally solid, shimmer with
The brightening illumination of an early
Sky, illuminated as if from within by sun,
In contrast to clouds, dark and edifying.
Luminescence in the early morning light.
Inevitably, it all passes
Sometimes, slowly like
A drifting cloud on a
Windless day or as quickly
As a car race at LeMans.
Inevitably and without a
Warning, time steals away
I am not a star-gazer.
I leave that to those
Who know what it is
In the night skies to
Distinguish one from
Another constellation.
Lights strung in rows
Or shining separately
Making sparkles that
Brighten the sky and
Illuminate the clouds.
We are transported on clouds of wonder
Each wondrous day. Magical, mystical or
Just mysterious, the sky points our way;
The road leads towards it but never lays
A path that reaches high enough to take
Us on a journey across the billowy wake.
We are tempted by the heavens but don't
Want to overreach. Where we are won't
Get us to that point gleaming overhead
We remain earthbound, easy on a tread
One step closer, one step further, careful
In awe of clouds, but simply in awe of all
Pink skies, I am always quoting,
Bode well for the day ahead, the
Very next day. But that applies
Only to a night sky. A morning
Apparition of a pink sky, they say
Is a bad sign. Pink sky at morning
Oh dear, sailors take warning. A
Nice neat rhyming pattern so easy
So mnemonic. Today's sky warns.
There's the pink,
Perfection in the
Form of a cloud
A perfection onto
Itself. All rosy pale
Yet bright and at
Its peak, very best
Someone has somehow painted the
Clouds onto a dark blue canvas, in
Puffs and billows, white fluffs on
An azure-going-black background
This magical contrast looks so real,
So natural as to make me gasp in
Awe at what genius there is in our
World. Genius with no artifact but
Nature's sky, her clouds, her night.
It was no brush that painted this
Wonder and brought it home to me.
No artful creature, or creative being
Just circumstance, the essential sum
And substance of air, space and time.
It just happened. My lucky moment
Under the cover of sky and clouds
We know that a red sky [at night]
Portends a clear day [at morning]
What, prithee, does a sky of pink
Foretell? Should we expect our
Day to show uncertainty rather
Than clarity? Erring [of course]
On the side of delighting sailors?
I tend to think [rather without
Evidence] that the pink is red
Shivering from the cold, made
Pale by temperatures too low
For comfort, too high for frost.
Pink sky at dusk, warm up the
Cabin, Captain [and if you must
Sail] wear long Johns and a parka.
Reprinted from http://allthebest.fitness.blog/2022/11/19/pink-on-the-horizon/
Tamara, really