Everlasting sky.
It begins with a silent gesture, that hand extended for
yours, an invitation to the unknown the unexpected, to what one had never dared
to even dream of. A feeling long lost in
that endless sea of blue, an experience only known to that storm that's not a storm.
A place where the dancers arched about the dance floor never quite reaching the
earth, trapped forever in that storm that's not a storm, but a dance in the
sky. For the sky was their dance floor, that everlasting sky hidden in the dark
of night, un seen and unheard to all except those with the eyes to truly see.
Twisting, twirling, tumbling, turning, across that endless sky, their fritz and
frills arching about behind them as they snapped across the sky. The forever sky that held host to the dance of
the storm that's not a storm, an arching festival of a silent serenade, as they
zipped across the sky. Their laughter unheard by all, theirs only to behold and
cherish as they flittered about the sky, bringing sight to those in the dark,
in flashes of beauty. So join them in
that spectacle, extend your hand if only for a moment of your busy, busy lives, and join the dancers in the storm
that's not a storm, for their fun is fleeting. Their rest taken as the sun
rises, and that sea of blue whisks away the dance floor of gray, and the storm
that's not a storm is lost once again. To that Everlasting sky.
![[send message]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/mail.png){kind=small}
![[befriend]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/friend.png){kind=small}
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Flag Writing
