Upon the sky a bluebird flies,
Sweetly singing over the plains,
Light of heart and free of soul:
That leads to death, death of mind.

Upon the sky a storm-cloud hangs,
Threatening balance with its hands,
Bolts of judgement, righteous anger,
Nothing happens, nothing achieved.

Upon the sky a war-plane soars,
Shaking wee boots, bullet-roar.
Mindless hell, ruthless ends,
But it shall soar through the very end.

NOTE: Was written after I thought about the sky, which is one of my favourite things of nature. It started with the bluebird, but then I imagined how many things crossed such a sky, and how different they all are, but similar.