Dear the sky,
You are the holder of weather, clouds, sunshine, rain, a perfect day and not. But that is not the reason I write to you late on this cool evening, as I have far more important words of respect that I feel I need to pay.
You are the blue thing above us tiny planet explorers that keeps us constantly moving creatures centered to the ground. You are more than an estimate of weather but an estimate of time.
When you show your colors that we consider a sunset of pink, orange, yellow, purple and blue. People look to you for that beauty that you obligingly supply us with.
At your depths of night you paint yourself with galaxies and tiny shining suns. A time when another world comes out to tamper. Of night bandits and the changing generations.
Late at this time of your endless cycle you are an old friend that I have known since I can't remember, you are there when my creativeness and active brain unlocks. And makes it hard to fall asleep but you are the same sky that takes me deep into my slumber.
Though I am one explorer of many that looks back at you with the same curiosity.
You see joy, misery, happiness, sadness, anger, pleasure, humanity and inhumanity. Births, deaths, crime, justice, cure and pain. You are the looking glass to our existence.
So thank you the sky for constant cycle. Your brilliant hues consisting of endless color, your expanding galaxies that glimmer through the night where the world stops to sleep and some waken to understand you better.
You put up with so much thought you protect us with your atmospheric cushion that keeps us safe from rocks that could obliterate us. But you have experience humanity of all types. And seen the aging of the passing world.
Yours sincerely,
Madeleine - a tiny creature that you may see once in a while.
