my empyrean.

A simple thing

But everything to me.

Can you see it as I do?

Destiny plucks stars from the sky

Ending the pattern, spoken verbatim

For this.

Galectic beauty, beauty in the dissarray

Hell below is jealous of the heavens above.

I wonder how people can ignore it

Jaded in repetition, routine

Kept in the dark, eyes downcast.

Look up. you won't regret it.

Map the stars, again and again.

Nature demands to be seen.

Our world is graced by our heavens above.

Perspective swirls in the pattern it makes.

Queer, the things we are given.

Rare, yet so common

Simple, but utterly complex

Timeless, but missed in the rapid world we are trapped in.

Ubiquity that never gets old

Veiled no more

We look up at our sky

Xenolith in our dismal world

Yank your sight from the ground.

Zenithal paradise is waiting.