Father Sky

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Did I ever thank you, Father Sky,
      spread far around like an open field
           piled high with moods and structures,
                a playground for my soul?

Your face above bids my thoughts expand
      to climb the heights of an anvil-cloud
           and teeter on the edge of a dazzling glare
                or slide down the shafts of the sun,

To swim to the center of your lonely blue
      where I find no mist to hide me,
           and lie exposed to the western wind
                like a mountain braced for sunrise.

Or clad in the shroud of brooding gray,
      you coax me to musing
           far removed from the minutiae
                that chains me to my life.

I search for light and openness
      to shadow the bonds of earth,
            exploring the vault of heaven
                for its meaning and its truth.

Thanks for this cathedral speaking glory through its art,
For opening my eyes, admitting Sky into my heart.

Author: Jamie Dedes

I curate The Poet by Day, and am a freelance writer, poet, content editor, and blogger. The Poet by Day [jamiededes.com] is an info hub for writers meant to encourage good but lesser-known poets, women and minority poets, outsider artists, and artists just finding their voices in maturity. The Poet by Day is dedicated to supporting freedom of artistic expression and human rights. Email thepoetbyday@gmail.com for permissions, commissions, or assignments. I am also the founding editor of "The BeZine" and manage all associated activities. Email: bardogroup@gmail.com View All Posts

Did I ever thank you, Father Sky, spread far around like an open field piled high with moods and structures, a playground for my soul?

Your face above bids my thoughts expand to climb the heights of an anvil-cloud and teeter on the edge of a dazzling glare or slide down the shafts of the sun,

To swim to the center of your lonely blue where I find no mist to hide me, and lie exposed to the western wind like a mountain braced for sunrise.

Or clad in the shroud of brooding gray, you coax me to musing far removed from the minutiae that chains me to my life.

I search for light and openness to shadow the bonds of earth, exploring the vault of heaven for its meaning and its truth.

Thanks for this cathedral speaking glory through its art, For opening my eyes, admitting Sky into my heart.

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Author: Jamie Dedes

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Did I ever thank you, Father Sky,
spread far around like an open field
piled high with moods and structures,
a playground for my soul?

Your face above bids my thoughts expand
to climb the heights of an anvil-cloud
and teeter on the edge of a dazzling glare
or slide down the shafts of the sun,

To swim to the center of your lonely blue
where I find no mist to hide me,
and lie exposed to the western wind
like a mountain braced for sunrise.

Or clad in the shroud of brooding gray,
you coax me to musing
far removed from the minutiae
that chains me to my life.

I search for light and openness
to shadow the bonds of earth,
exploring the vault of heaven
for its meaning and its truth.

Thanks for this cathedral speaking glory through its art,
For opening my eyes, admitting Sky into my heart.