How is it that we do not know
The spirit people of the sky
In spirit dwellings sailing by,
But eyes and ears and hearts we close?
In massive halls they bluster by
Eagerly display their show
Straining down to those below
Pouring favour forth. And I?
With ever longing wish, look up
Desire, despair, my offering
Nothing valued proffering
Only lifting empty cup
Sky gods condescend to dust
Beckoning us–Rise and dance!
But feet remain inured to chance,
Planted firm upon the crust
Sky gypsies, with brooding sigh
Parade in caravans of light
Receive rebuke for their invite
So shaking massive shoulders, cry
Clouds © Mary Lou DeRidder 2020