When that hand starts waning
Let it
Become the sky
Watch it slowly drifting by
It is a bird of a hand
Sick for home
Sick to rest
When it flies by your clouds
Be not frail clouds
But let it pass by
At peace
For it needs peace to prevail
Press your thunders in
It is dusk not hell
It glides silhouetting by
Hands like birds
Need home
You are not home
You are thunder-laden sky
May be the dark nears
But keep your storm
Let it be home first
You have never been so
You have been a sky
You are
The whole damn sky!
Grey Sparrow Journal 