Sky Man
Big man up in the little sky
at the concordant podium,
waking up from his deep sleep,
hears the cries of the parched earth,
sensing the anxiety of the farmers,
going to work in his celestial studio,
looking out at the order of the environ,
the lazy skies at peace with themselves,
the pacific mood in the face of the firmament,
the empty expression and pastel colors,
the settling in of the indifferent skies
and the deep sleep that they fell into.
Grabbing his paddle and waking up
the sleepy skies,
he stirs them up and disrupts the
flow of the feeble calm.
He riles up the still wind.
He sends the sun deep into the abyss.
He summons the clouds to assemble
and smashes them into each other.
He brings chaos to the lazy mood.
He is a disrupter of the established peace
and the cadence of the quiet skies.
He is a benevolent beast,
angry but kind, tyrannical but heedful,
a beast with charity written on his face,
a rainmaker that dampens the spirit
but revives the withered crops in the field,
a hero who answers the calls of the needy.
All hail to the Sky Man and his heedful deeds.
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