Her Majesty, the Sky

The sky wears billowing gowns, layers

Upon layers of silk fluttering

With the breeze, and

She dances in it with ease, never

Tripping or stumbling but

Forever stretching out her arms;

She smiles with the sun, and

Her eyes, which

Forever bear the mark

Of the stars, twinkle as

Her blue face flushes

With the clouds, freckles

Of birds countless and soaring, and

Hearts flutter like their wings when

They catch a glimpse;

She embraces everyone with

Beauty and with grace, and

She forever expands her reaches so

It is clear how endless

Her love is stretched so

Thin but

Even the most tattered blanket can

Bear the warmth of a hug;

She isn’t tattered, though, and

She welcomes all in her kingdom, and

Why is it that people refuse to

Stare up at the sky and

Consider Her Majesty a

Wonder of leadership

To behold?