How quickly the night draws in
When you are standing above the clouds.
Dark shades of purple start to crowd out
The last hints of a golden orange.
The black of the earth and the water
With just a hint of silver striking it
From the brightness of a full moon
Shining in the sky like a search light,
That is all you can see at this moment
Searching longingly for a hint of home,
Waiting for this unending journey to be over
And for this anxiousness to drain away.
But then you see it, there laid out below:
A web of intricacy, a blanket of warmth,
The lights shining gold against the black,
All spread out just beneath your palm.
How quickly it sucks your breath away,
Seemingly the life blood of the earth.
It quickens and pulses and twinkles,
Simply breathing and bursting with life.
There are the veins and arteries.
One is red while the other is gold,
Both continuously moving onward
Through the stars of the earth.
The gold light of this ambrosia,
Why does it taste so sweet
With only a simple stare?
And yet it draws out the soul.
But the wonder does not last,
The heavenly taste lingers
Not nearly long enough to
Satisfy an unquenchable thirst.
Too soon it is replaced by
The reality of what it really is:
Cracked, cold concrete
In a city of the desolate.
The rods dangle off broken fences
Built to keep everything out,
To create borders, and to separate.
Now they are just falling apart.
The black marks of marred buildings
And the faded remnants of
All those discarded cigarette butts.
The trash that floods the streets.
The boarded up restaurants
And the makeshift tents
Leaning against trashcans
And old discarded sofas.
Dark alleyways and burnt out
Streetlights all scratch themselves
Into the eyes of the passerby,
The ones that only look away.
Still, if only to remember
What could have been:
The bright lights and flow
Of magic through a living web.
It is not as far off as
What one once thought,
Only a little distance is needed
To taste the ambrosia once more.
Though to forget reality would
Be nothing more than an ugly sin.
There is no use in forever running away,
But neither is there in ignoring hidden beauty.
Let’s not forget that behind
Crumbling walls and broken streets
Lives are lived through every day
Working, loving, laughing always.
And the evidence of those lives?
When it’s too dark for sight,
It is unveiled from above,
Twinkling like stars come to earth.