if you are to ever see the sun move, do not begin to fear the sky
for the amaranthine heavens still crave voyage, just as you and I.
when you see the stars part way for the family of all things,
you are to obey with a comprehension of sanctity as it sings.
a languid song of space and time, an ancient breadth of life;
a tale recounting myriad millennia of prosperity and strife.
the clouds will part with breath, gold and silver in rainbow glory
as the beloved beings descend to our planet and share their story.
though there will be grand celebration, there must be sorrow too,
because after great presence, a gap of great emptiness must ensue.
the warded clouds will collide back together in their vast domain,
and with their desperately lovely reunion will come torrents of rain.
without versicolor visages it will become darker than you've ever seen;
all the creatures, all of the people, will mourn the lost gilded queen.
an expanse of shimmering black opal wind shall push away the blight
as we lay down amongst the ubiquitous Earth and regain our sight.
if we had felt enrapturing love before we still feel it coming to us so;
if we are to regain our lost endeavors we must continue the daily flow.
the sky will continue to glisten and wane with all the colors of magic;
we must learn to see intense blooms as a gracious rather than tragic.
