Looking Up

I have been watching the sky
all my life
standing tiptoe,
leaning gracelessly,
bending artfully, stretching beyond others’ grasp
to find a better vantage point
in a life cluttered with shadows,
dark edifices of doubt blocking my view,
but always looking up;
I have never had much use for dirt
or anything else beneath my feet.

I have been watching the sky
of late,
startled out of anonymous traffic and slipping into
unabashed awe
of clouds described by all poets
and sunsets setting all lovers aflame
wondering at dust and water,
extremes in their perpetual tango
of living patience.

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