Divine Spaces

Adrift in a hallowed cloud,
never setting a foot to ground.

Betwixt white walls we flit,
Not fearing even the pit.

We soar forever higher
'til we rest 'pon our funeral pyre.

At times blindly casting 'bout,
never fearing the strike of a lout.

Interruption never known,
As we sit in the divine home.

Blind, dumb, and deaf to all,
we watch as kingdoms fall,

we see species rise,
as we look to the skies

Casting outward, always searching
amidst the spaces, our minds lurching

clumsily seeking a word or phrase
to fit in exactly the right place

and when we strike the perfection we sought
there is a feeling, sacred, which cannot be bought.

Though others may hate the works of our toil
we write not for them, for they hug the soil.