Consider the sky effectively painted
by the sun, our star, burning the clouds
as it lies to rest in its cradle.
Majestic purples and royal reds
and the sounds of the world muted.
The wind calms and dusk settles
and the air cools as our lunar friend
watches from above,
as we watch all from the Earth below.
Beautifully minuscule. With limiting bodies
and minds more vast than the cosmos we seek.
Our souls ablaze in lieu of our star.
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