-- UNDER EARTH’S SKIES --
John Herlihy
It all happens under infinite blue skies,
Slanted light with the wind on the prowl.
It blows where it wants, on nothing relies,
There it goes thru the trees, a wolf howl.
It all happens underneath immense skies,
Cloud shadows amble along carpets of earth.
Each little person lives uncertainly then dies,
Each wondering what happened from birth.
It all happens under those darkened skies,
Sorrows, sadness, miseries there to contend.
Thru storm and wind our ship of state plies,
The truth made clear with nothing to pretend.
It all happens under those sunny bright skies,
Our happiest joys leave their indelible mark.
The gift of life given to us as a valuable prize,
The unending silence forces us to listen, hark.
It all happens there under the earth’s skies,
Where life was born on the trillionth chance.
The Lord watches over us with His loving eyes,
We go about our business in pursuit of romance.
It all happens up above in those eternal skies,
Whispers come down to us of mysteries untold.
The heavenly cohort look down as watchful spies,
May we escape their scrutiny as our lives unfold.
- - - - - -
(c) John Herlihy 21 March 2019
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Contrarily, I have found that astronauts who have looked back at the earth and wonder from above those skies, almost universally waxed poetic about how "thin," our atmosphere is, only about 10 miles of air where all of the wonder you described takes place. From that viewpoint, so fragile and so little, to sustain all of life as we know it. Surely, heaven cannot be beyond that thin strip in the cold black vacuum of space.
Ron
“The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.”
Another gem, John.