Sky

Burned to red in the desert,
Frozen in blue on top of a mountain,
Somewhere in the north, green and yellow whirl around.
A painting,
With all the colors in the world, yet no color of its own.

Call it Gemini, Virgo, or Libra,
Little twinkling stars map out all the luck.
Some say it’s a face of child. It shines,
But it’ll change.
The fluffy clouds signal a sudden rain.

Thunder cracks it open—
Without a scar it heals.
Oh the rainbow, cheers to the survival!
A crown over the quivering earth,
Or a tombstone of lost pride?