Up, Up, Up Into His Sky

I wake, having forgotten to look up
To see how god shapes his story for us
If only we had the cypher to the clouds.

I ask the trees, having watched Him longer,
If they have a code, they say, “no man,
Made up our own, more fun that way.”

I smile and move along to speak with birds
They all laugh together, “silly man, always
Thinking God does everything for you.”

I smile and look past them at the blue
Wanting to unlock the dictionary, and name
Every corner of the sky in between clouds.

Just then the birds’ silence stills me
To these pieces of universe we surmise
Are ours to discover and name.

Names that will be forgotten
Once their meaning dies and with us,
Drift up, up, up into His sky.

Image: Sky 2, Creator’s Celebration by Roxanne Dyer

Words’ Worth

What these words are worth
To those without eyes to read
Or chips in heads binaring what pens bleed?
Take time before it melts
To look,
To see,
To listen,
To hear
All the tiny things the earth
Record them, Poet!

Like the nine lovers of Hesiod sew
Lyrics to life from the smallest detail.

The simple worth of words
Hearts slide outside
A closed box,
With pen’s ink
Rearranged order,
And find in disorder,
Joy’s deviance.

Painting: Francois Boucher Erato, The Muse Of Love Poetry