Yesterday evening after dark, we had the universe to ourselves. So it seemed, so it felt, out walking under the clouds and stars, knowing full well that the clouds and stars were under us as well, making us as round as this dear round globe. Above us, though, in the swath that was visible to our bare naked eyes, were majestic rivers — rivers of illuminated clouds in galactic strands; rivers of stars suspended in the darkest of dark blues.
February 6, 2021
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Categories: New Poems & Pieces
Tags: Clouds, Consciousness, Diaries, Earth, Galaxies, Journals, Rivers, Stars, Walking
William Michaelian 