An Ode to Muses to Kalliope

Horizon

Every tragic ending has a silver lining,
Much like the sea on a cloudy day whining.
It glistens just as brightly as a joyful one.
It is not gold, but silver, my son.
Often tossed in search for a far more precious metal,
While the tides pretend they attempt to settle.
Light is yellow and kisses the water shades of gold,
In hopes that its breath won't make it seem so cold.
The clouds lay upon the shore, thin brush strokes of wire.
This dancing tinsel is often overlooked by its sire.
Only present when ominous shapes hide the sun.
While father plays peek-a-boo with his children's fun.
Hoping, that we listen to his scratched record,
The colorful scheme, now appearing checkered.
No longer is the ocean dusted in dandelion hues,
"The moon" she says, "is now my muse."
Though the clouds may be gray, they still guide her right.
As the moon leads her, like a breeze does a sailor of the night.
They say Silver has less value on Earth,
Because it is not the color of worth.
Look up at my creation
And tell me of the shade of the galaxy's summation.
Sirius only shines like so,
Because in darkness he was born, while his world I did sew.
Indeed, every tragic ending has a silver lining,
But to see the view, you must keep climbing.