The Story of the Sky
By John Herlihy

Even the sky has a story to tell,
Evocative as the tolling of a bell.
The celestial dome of moody hue,
An ancient tale of black and blue.

Reminiscent of the dawn of time,
When the world was in its prime.
First day bathed in primordial light,
A planet in orbit that feels just right.

Shooting stars scar the blackness of night,
With the powdery dust of snowy white.
Someone has died and is taking their leave,
Saluting the world with no need to grieve.

When a star blinks, a new is child born;
The infant soul falls from the sky, torn.
The seasonal moon never stays the same,
Moving shadows stake its claim to fame.

We project our moods onto heaven’s plate,
Admiring the rosy dawn for our own sake.
Bad weather above reflects grey slate,
As the heavens frown down on earth’s fate.

Clouds in the sky produce rainbows to shine;
Earth roams through the heavens to unwind.
The sky is foundation and ground stone,
A turtle carrying the universe on its own.

Let us not forget sky’s infamous blue,
Simply glorious and alas forever new.
A story as revelation as though we knew,
What is just an illusion and what is true .