Oer the spacious, infinite skies,
Gleam a pair of watchful eyes,
Shining bright,
Waiting for the sun to rise.
Through the haze those eyes do spy
A pleasant place, with naught awry.
All is right,
Save for a silent, sorrowful cry.
A spirit, lost, alone does lay
Neath trees sheltering boughs by day,
But come night
It seeks that which has gone astray.
In that dark the stars do glow,
Gazing on the world below
From a height,
Free of the dark jaws of woe.
Two forces seen, with no release
From their worlds which never cease
To shed light.
Separate they remain at peace.
The heavens, ever calm, remain.
The mortal earth, hasty and vain.
Each in sight
Yet watchful of the others pain.
