I sit alone and wonder, as I often do
How can the sky remain so blue? Are there cherubs that paint it with each day rise Is when the color fades called night? Do they make it a task given to some, the few special lucky beings, Or is it all, the morning sky endlessly teaming? Do they get bored with the color and change it up, snickering amongst each other, Does Zeus laugh and tell them to paint it back to the starting color? Apollo with his golden chariot that drags across the sky, Does he sit and watch over with a sigh? I sit alone and wonder, looking at all to be seen, How can the grass be such a radiant shade of green? Are there tiny nymphs that dance among the blades, Twirling and whirling, casting just the right shades? Do they color the rocks, the trees, Do they color everything in between? Does Artemis watch over, A notch in her bow and arrow? To set the color in place that’s new, So these wood nymphs sprinkle on the morning dew? I sit alone and wonder, in front of a babbling brook, Do these mythical, beautiful creatures give the water it’s magical look? Do mermaids weave in and out of the weeds, Little rocks in their bags, carrying the water sheen? Do they scatter them amongst the aquatic, Or do they carefully take their pick? Does Poseidon in all his glory and grace, Teach his daughters where they are to be placed? Does the color gradually spread thin, Or is something grand to to rejoice in? I sit and wonder, why we never see this radiance, That which must take place in darkness, That time when no mortal is awake, When gods and nymphs and cherubs and mermaids do beauty make. It’s a puzzle how they accomplish such things, But it’s something for a mortal to see. I sit alone and wonder about this beauty, And wonder will I, for the rest of eternity. |