Stuck on the Clouds

Pale blue stretching on forever, clear and bright;

Puffy white cotton balls floating beneath smoky streams;

Dark threatening clouds blanketing the air;

Colors streaking out, painting clouds pink;

Or the heavens turned black to reveal their glimmering lights --

I admit it.

I may have a slight obsession with the sky.

The atmosphere entirely captivates my view. I see nothing else when I step outside.

...Perhaps that's not true. I see the rest.

Yet, when I step outside, the sky is where my gaze is pulled.

Immediately.

Constantly.

Always and forever, my eyes are pulled up.

Up, up to where the butterflies dance and the bumble bees rush.

Up, up to where the birds soar at heights we could never reach.

Up, up to where the wind circles and gusts, unable to be felt.

Up, up to where our world meets the unknown,

And touches what is far beyond our sight.

I'm stuck looking up,

Obsessed with the beauty of the skies,

And the mystery that lies beyond.