The looming blue clouds ridged the sky,
More massive than any mortal can imagine,
Spreading like tectonic plates for miles.
Why is there a sky?
Because the world needs a ceiling.
And why is their a ground?
Because the world needs something to support it.
The birds up above dived without sentiment,
And I wondered, Do they ever wish to touch the sun and moon?
Did they ever get there?
I know it’s impossible, but then,
Wouldn’t it be funny,
If all of science was proven wrong and the curious wondering people
Were right after all?
They asked me if I was ready
To write worlds where no one has ever dared venture,
Where life has never breathed in that specific way before.
And I replied,
Yes.
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