She used to live in the sky.
Nestled between white clouds of hope promising renewal,
Embedded deep in an ever-expanding blue blanket.
The mention of it just feels nostalgic.
She knew she belonged up there.
Right in that empty space between constellations of story that
border between fantasy and validity-
they impenetrate our reality, if only for a moment.
She is confident she was meant to be there.
Where there can be the brightest of lights
never exceeding its threshold in magnitude.
There is no limit against greatness there.
Contrasting the calm darkness of night,
there can be no force to tell you that
Brightness is not an option here.
She must've been there.
Where the two sisters alternate greetings
in glorious displays of color that just melt across the sky,
momentarily kissing the horizon.
Or a quiet arrival of conscientious light-
hesitant in the day but more courageous as the skies welcome it
with the intrusion of evening.
This is when They emerge.
Dazzling drops of fresh inspiration rekindle their fiery twinkle
to remind you They are constantly up there for you.
They don't say goodbye,
They just promise an unconcious until tonight.
She swears she must've been there.
In that sky.
A star surround by so many other promises kept just out of reach
but clearly in sight;
They will not leave you.
They cannot deny any type of optimism;
They are the exemplification of encouragement;
They are the definition of trying again because they try again each night-
In hopes you see them;
In hopes you remember their endless devotion,
the continual protection They guarantee over our forever galaxies.
She sees them. She would join them. She may have used to.
But then who would look up
Each time the sky fades from a breezy ocean reflection to its backdrop of mysteriousness
awaiting the conclusion of an ultimate odyssey.
Time is finally dedicated to rest,
the stars are finally apparent to whisper,
"Good Night."
And she thinks she used to live there.
In that sky that carries a night's faithful wish.