Outside

Outside

Stirring, stirring,
Whirring, whirring,
Spinning, spinning,
And turning, turning.
A mile a minute, a mile a moment,
A revolution, rotation, a ricocheting current,
Never inert, never still,
Powered by unlimited will,
All beyond Nature’s grasp,
Twirling in a veil of gas,
Leaving all the small to gasp,
Leaving all within aghast,
To gawk at all the wonders amassed,
Gorging upon the visual repast,
Staring voraciously with all eyes wide,
Wondering at the broad, dark skies,
Void of lies and void of strife,
Full of mystery, full of surprise,
And all glints and twinkles, as if filled with life.

Silent as graves, yet never as heavy,
Never as placid, never as steady,
A cold vacuum shaped with searing eddies,
That man has scarcely, barely touched,
But with our eyes we’ve always clutched,
And with our minds we can only imagine—
A simple everyday distraction,
A mild, forgiven, yet repeated infraction,
To wonder just what lies aloft.
I suppose we’ll stay staring, or glancing above,
At the sky we look upon and silently love,
Feeding voraciously on every night,
Slipping away to catch a sight,
Stealing away with eyes so wide,
Pushing ahead and stepping outside.