The Sky

Sunset

Strange how everything below can be such death and chaos and pain while above the sky is peace, sweet blue gentleness.
– Shannon Hale, Book of a Thousand Days

Last night I witnessed a pocket watch sky.
With every passing headlight, the hands of time
led me back to my childhood.
Clouds of cotton candy swirls.
Sticks of spun sugar that my lips longed to taste.
Bonbon stars and a confectionary moon.

There is an inexplicable bravery that comes
with being young and trivial.
We never had to explain why capes let us
believe we could fly, and why we
befriended dragons and knew things of lore and legend.
I wanted to soar like Icarus – sing like a phoenix –
and let my inhibitions fall like loose feathers come
undone from the honey, syrup, and wax.

I let the setting sun linger on my tongue, tasting
remnants of pop rock asteroids and lollipop trees.
And on days when we can no longer see the stars,
I will think back to this moment –
recall how colorful we were –
lionhearted kids that used to paint chalk rainbows
on dancing sidewalks.

We knew what freedom was,
understood how to tap maple and music from
the trees, play jazz with only our hands and thighs,
and whistle with our lips upon blades of grass.
How I wish we could be mavericks now.

Gazing out of my window, the sky seemed never ending.
Just like the rainbows, the chalk, and our fingers
smeared with stardust, we never imagined the chapter of
those days would end.

Our eyes were charged with curiosity, our fingers inquisitive.
We wanted to know all – we wanted to be all.
Making heaven out of star-like fireflies.
We were four-foot infinities.
We were boundless. Just like the sky.

 – Samantha Prasad

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