THE SKY

Once, upon a waning sky, I sat surveying the world.
The moon on the left, the setting sun over yonder.
As I sat in that hill, I let the rays wash over me.
For it is not often that one gets to see the oncoming of night
It’s great velvety blanket of sometime comfort,
sometime seeds of danger and excitement
with the last threads of colour fading in a western sky
altogether a wash and a tangle of blue black pink
The sun and the moon fighting it out
two circular globs of pleasure and pain
the one and the nought
the killer and the victim
the fire and the ashes of who knows what

Up high the blackness is already visible
While to the east there is still that sheen of blue
That typifies this lonely planet on any given day
It is still a colour that defies description
Mirrored at times in a tropical bay from above
But still somehow unfathomable
For it is but a reflection of something we cannot see, hear or taste
A distant memory, a longing, a quickening, a haven

What makes it so puzzling is that it somehow reflects our planet
And yet on any given day if we look around us,
We do not see blue serene tranquillity, reflected in the faces
But then perhaps it is just our oceans that cause our sky to appear that way

And what do we know of our oceans
That deep oily swell of crashing and sulk
Able to swallow huge ships and aeroplanes with barely a sigh
No, our ocean does not give up her secrets easily
Nor should she, for if we had our way
we’d bottle her and sell her down the high street

I cannot see the sea from here afoot on this hill
But I know that she is there and I am glad she is still

And so it is that it is somehow easier to accept the blackness
as it slowly unfurls and eats into the pink purple and grey
and steals the colour and the heat from the day
for at least one can point at this star and that
and say, that one is you, this one is me

The sky at once scary and far
But also individual freedom and movement
Looks back at us from up there

Not that we understand
But it is not difficult to see why we dream
of travelling beyond this fiery realm

Interesting that it is only as the sun begins to touch the end of day
That we can now look full in the face of it
For midday curiosity can have a detrimental effect on ones eyeballs

But how can it be that I can see both at one time
The sun and the moon, similar in size
In what way are they related, what do they mean
What have they created, and what have they seen

I feel so small sat here surveying all this
An ant on an ant hill
Insignificant and small
But yet if I can see it and hear it and feel it in awe
That makes me in it and on it and part of it all

I let my vision drift into the swirl of colour
And imagine myself flying with the best of them
Tumbled deep in the ocean
Falling through the clouds
Melting down with rocks at the core
Flying with leaves
Tossed like feathers

What can I do?

Can I direct my flight and stem my passage
Can I take aim and fire down the sky
Can I own the sunset and drop kick the moon over yonder tree

Oh yes, I can paint and I can think
But who am I in all of this

How does one get to the stars
And how can one live with what I can see
A world gone mad
An army of grave robbers
The attack of the clones

All seems dying
And who looks at the sky anymore

This moment is a gift for me
A gift I may never again see
And as the sadness creeps down and the sun disappears
Even though I am told that it is still there, just not here
How can I be sure it will rise again to herald another day

My life is burnt into this planet
This planet is burnt into me
How can I ever forget what I have seen

And yet even as I trudge down that cold lonely hill
The last vestiges and wisps of the day, flung off into night
My mind is already on the crazy and insane…

He said this and she said that
She did this and he did that
What is your name
Who are you
Where did you come from
What are you doing
Why are you doing this
How did you come to be in my life
What time is it
Where am I supposed to be
Why is she not here yet
What is this for
How does this work

I turn around one last time and gaze up to that hill
A distant memory of sights and splendour
If I can just hold that feeling for a moment longer
Perhaps I will not burn so painfully this time

Perhaps I can hold out a hand and take another’s in mine
Walk with honour and dignity through the killing field
Head held high but back to the brace
A song on my lips and a joke told with grace

There is a friend waiting for me at the bottom of the hill
We embrace and share a greeting
A look between us says more than any words I could ever find.

Welcome back my friend.
You are alone, but not alone
And you are not the only crazy who ever looked at the sky, you know
Perhaps tomorrow we can share that moment together, my friend
When the sky meets the earth and the sun eats a distant land.

You see, we are not so different you and I

And laughs

We join hands and walk down the rest of the way together
to begin again and prepare for the morrow.

A Bard of the Setting Sun