The Symphonies of Heaven

Moonlight pools in the furrowed fields. 

Each grain-topped stalk reaches up

To caress the dark sky’s face.

A hush has fallen over our common earth,

But the heavens are alive with song.

The stars pour forth melodies, harmonies,

Endless arias, spiraling refrains.

Their silver voices sing clear in the night.

Who but God has ears to listen?

Who but God and his legions of angels?

If we could hear but one chord of that song,

We would never again doubt the beauty of existence

Or the perfection of eternity to come,

Wrapped in the symphonies of heaven. 

NPWM Day 22: Lantern

This morning, when I went to get in my car

in the empty parking spot next to it

lay an orange paper lantern

the kind you set fire inside

and the heat billows within the tissue paper

to make it rise, glowing and magical

into the empty night sky

 

In the light of day

it lay there crumpled on its side

the breeze gently moving it

so that it looked like it was breathing

inhale, exhale

panting softly on the ground

after its one glorious flight

 

The wick inside it had burned to ash

The paper sides of the lantern

were streaked black from the flames

Its orange flanks rose and fell

like a horse ridden too hard

until its wind is broken

 

I picked it up

and set it gently to rest 

in the cool morning grass

with reverence

It deserved no less

For how many can say

that the fire inside them

burned so fiercely

that it carried them to skim the stars?