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The sky holds no false sense of permanence
No buildings or deep-rooted trees
No stamp of human approval
The humans just fly by
Is it any wonder why we look to the sky
As if that’s where the Divine Maker resides?
Where wind, water, and fiery light join in
The art of ever re-designing skyscape.
And if we long for a different display
In only a wink and a blink of the eye
As if by magic the image changes
For the sky holds no false sense of permanence
The sky touches land with rain and rays
Yet we have no way of touching the sky
Not even with a tall, tip-toe, fingertip reach
But we reach and we stretch nonetheless
Still the sky, in all its wonder, is a only a sign
But our source of hope is wondrously Divine.
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