From Up Here

From up here,

you can tell that 

the earth is round.

You can imagine

that great sloping 

curve in the distance.

From up here,

you can tell that

the earth spins

around the sun—

that the clouds

are only just

the beginning.

From up here,

great sprawling rivers

can fit in the space

between your fingers

and you can watch

the sun making 

its burning arch

across the sky.

And suddenly—

you feel very small

in comparison.

In Light of This

A shadowed earth—
the darkness painting and covering
its dips and swells,
its plains and shady forests.
Erratic spider webs of dotted light
are a beacon of humanity.
They reach for one another—
tendriled arms of mottled amber,
green and yellow fade
and are consumed in darkness.
Yet elsewhere—
even in the purest of the black,
there remains a persistent cluster
of light, like a rebellious celebration.
And the pulse of this lighted center
is living and spreading.
Until the black is not so dark
and the surface of the world
is cased in golden netting.
And then you can see
how we have made this place our home.
And it seems
that perhaps we are better in the dark.
That when given the chance, we make our light.
And it is truly beautiful.