“The heavens are telling of the glory of God; And their expanse is declaring the work of His hands.”
The evening clouds cut into the sky
outlining above, a lost forgotten cove.
Strewn with sunken masts
of sailing ships and,
plunder swallowed under.
An alabaster moon
full and spilling, illuminating,
swimming below the water.
The clouds quilted and rippled
like waves careening over the breakers high.
The clouds are moving North and East,
pulling along the distant shore.
The moon, though,
moves South and West,
highlighting celestial currents
blades if you will,
renting the waters.
Streams that meander not.
Sheathed they are
in the color of cool burnt steel.
The first of December,
the chill I feel is real.
Ice caps bobbing.. are the birth of stars…
Into the expanse above,
I gaze from below,