Residue from the Attic
Fragments of lower heaven flying in the air
from the attic of the upward skies,
ivory chunks of feathery velvet dancing
with the December winds
in rhythm with the overbearing breath
that circulates through the lower empyrean
and directs the motion of the submissive air,
the air that fills up with the dews of heaven
and builds a willowy citadel as a gray mist
that forms a cloud that spills over
and goes to war in the fields of the tepid air
claiming its dominance in the unsettled skies,
waving its banners in victory,
the conquistador of the upper region,
yet a force being overpowered by another force,
being pushed by the rhythms of its breath,
a force softened by the universal power
that controls the positioning of the skies
and the assemblage of the clouds,
December snows cascading down so slowly
dancing under the heavens so holy,
residue of the skyward attic
as Nature’s charm and celestial magic,
hymns of the wind through the naked trees,
melodious commands of Supremacy’s decrees
as snowflakes fall
so majestic and small.
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