Galleries Afloat
Opening bell in morning skies,
Silent colors coming into view,
Pastels blazing behind the dark,
Midnight grasping at the last straw,
Darkness melting upon the burning coals,
Giving way to the inundation of the dawn,
Pink basins collecting all the tears,
A sight to behold above the gardens,
Above the ladders upon the mountain tops,
Below the base of the empyrean,
Exalted beams from outreaching hands,
Tears of the supreme of the celestial lands,
Caught in tender moments, tender prayers,
Colors of the melted cathedrals,
Pictorial chants of the priests of Eden,
Drifting by at an effervescent pace
With their eyes looking toward evenfall,
Rose covered psalms of the morn
Sung by the warriors of midnight’s cantata,
Riding on fiery chariots in the streaming light,
Caught by the eyes of the inspirited ones,
The catchers of the floating galleries
Hanging in the blushing morn,
The exalted ones who look up at the sky
And witness Mother Nature and
The way she flaunts her beauty,
Her liquid gardens, enchanting moons,
Vivacious curves, blushing smiles,
Reflecting lights, natural grace,
Drifting about in the glorious morn
In the prime of the new day
When beauty embarks upon her mission,
A look into the depths of beauty,
An ode to the galleries afloat in the sky.
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