The Sky Isn’t the Limit

A response to Vertical Light

The open sky and the cloudy

With so many layers of atmosphere

Is a place full of wonder

Where every dream can take flight.

’Tis a past realm of flying horses

Of drakes with breath so fiery

And mythical creatures

Frozen as flaming stars in the night.

Shaped by man’s economical outcropping

Scraped by towering stacks of stone

It becomes a canvas tarnished

By the belches of greenhouse gasses.

As a child, I look out the window,

My mind drifting up with my gaze.

A V-formation, cropduster, and a hot air balloon,

All cross my spinning radar.

I glance downward at my homework

Which remains yet unfinished,

Then to the pen I hold in palm of hand,

And a retro rocket it resembles:

Slender, chrome-plated, and pointy-tipped.

Upside down I flip it

Leaving its ink-oozing end directed up

And my old pen swelled.

Its fruits skyrocketed; its need grew.

The letters it drew drew inspiration

From the shapes of leaves of light,

Shadows of darkness, and shifting cumuli.

The Sun crowns the regions in brightness.

Hours spin by and moon takes its place.

I return home by night

And looking up can spot the Big Dipper.

I settle down for bed, longing for it.

Turning out my light, I drop my head

Falling to a wrinkly pillow.

I tilt my head and peer out into a void:

An abyss filled with nature

Hosting a horizon of new hope.

Lightning bugs flashed on and off,

Twinkling like stars afar.

The red lights of an aircraft

I could make out through the boughs

Of some enormously tall tree

And faded into a dark obscurity.

I myself was slipping fast away

And it was then I realized

The sky isn’t the limit

But a pathway to opportunity.