The soft white landscape in the sky,
I look on to as I hover by,
And remark on the hills the clouds form,
Or the black mountains created by a storm,
Or wispy ones that are a steamy stream
Lit asunder by sun-light’s full gleam.
And as I journey above, the city of pearl cotton
I watch as the light around me, slowly softens.
Until nought but an orange-red ribbon is left,
Gracing this perpetual horizon, right to left.
So that awe and breathless is how I feel,
As before my Creator I prostrate and kneel.
