look up to the skies
it’s suspiciously bright,
even without flame.
streaks of white
ripple across the sky,
surfing the clouds
with practiced ease.
inching across the canvas
stealthily, overlapping
patches of dark and light.
the moon coyly gives us
glimpses of her at her fullest,
even as thinly woven veils
shift past her cratered visage.
she is the centerpiece of
the night’s exhibition,
each aspect tailored
to enhance her already
blinding beauty.
soft breeze just barely
tousles my hair,
a symphony of cicadas
rule the silence,
only punctuated by the croaks
of a lovelorn fool
in the throes of passion.
every time i look up,
i see art,
constantly breaking apart
and put back differently.
tonight, i am lucky witness
to an endless array of
kaleidoscopic patterns,
they dance behind my
closed eyes,
and for the first time,
i take a moment to just breathe.