Skies, Pine For the Miracle

The skies, they have no eyes,

Or rubied lips for your surprise;

Watching, they bring out cries,

Stars fall as the angel dies.

 

Water rippling, making lines,

Watch and read prophetic signs,

As the island, sinking, shines,

For the broken world now pines.

 

Patterns in the Earth,

The rumours of another birth,

Faces lifted up in mirth,

As forests bathe in the hearth.

 

If rainbow girls tell a tale,

Swirling outward from the Grail,

Onwards, truth, without fail,

Break through that ethereal veil.

 

Fire and the soul decide:

I in you am always descried;

When its death only implied,

See it, now the skies have lied.

 

The skies, they have no eyes,

Or rubied lips for your surprise;

Watching, they bring out cries,

Stars fall as the angel dies.

The End

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