The Sky

Ever since I was a child, I have been fascinated by the sky.  There's something so fragile about looking up and seeing the blue that is really a small barrier to an eternity of the emptiness of space.  At night, it's as if the earth's shield is let down, and we are able to catch a small glimpse of what lays out there.  It makes me feel so insignificant...and so significant, too, at the same time.  Something about the sky draws me to God, makes me more aware of my existence, and provides enlightenment about my purpose and worth.  When I look up, I can feel God's eyes on me.  It's a deeply spiritual experience for me, whether I'm watching the passing clouds, searching the stars, or just staring into the deep blue expanse.  

I love the sky.  I love the colors, the way the clouds drift by, or when they build up and darken before a storm.  To me, the sky represents freedom, peace, and beauty.  How the world looks is dependent on how the sky looks.  I'm so thankful for such a gorgeous, ever-changing, ever-present part of life.  The love of God is shared through the beauty of the sky.

Paint Me A Sky

The sun sets

     Dripping wet

Down below the horizon

Purple painted skies

Dabbled with dusk

     And dusty clouds

Foretell that heaven’s beauty

Is not laid to rest for the night

But only just beginning

The pallet of colors burn

As they rush to sink into sleep

Beneath the folds of the sky

Then gently

     Ever so gently

A bashful diamond glimmers

Growing bolder as the night wanes on

Until at last

The sky glitters above

With such remarkable brilliance

That I’ve already forgotten the beauty

Of the sunset.