How often I forget.
Eyes, razor-like, look on,
Gaze along the horizon,
While stars spindle down
Into my soul like a midnight
Dream, scraping the chill
Off my bones, off my bones.
*
A local poet named the dark-
Wide-skyscape beautiful; love.
I’m still looking around at
The fading shadows of
Deep evening and shallow morning.
The moon glow lifts my eyes
Off the ground, off the ground.
*
My cricked neck wearies,
So I settle in the low,
Lay in the dimple of the
Long grasses; their back and
Forth in the breeze frame
The heavens declarations
Off the heights, off the heights.
Gerald the Writer 
Look up,
Not to looming disaster.
Look up,
For reassuring hope
When we lay down
We can look up
To better take in the vastness
Look up,
Take in the vastness
Be amazed
There is a place for you.
Small but not lost
You are cared for
You are loved
A poem in the comment section…snapping my fingers now! thank you J! Let’s keep looking up!
Thank you Jerry for a poem that inspires, that takes me beyond casual rumination.
Really beautiful, Jerry! My favorite image was “While stars spindle down Into my soul like a midnight dream, scraping the chill off my bones, off my bones.”