sky

The sky above us seems huge, vast. It__ clear and crisp and visibility is so good that, when I look up, I feel like I'm staring at an inverted, endless ocean. I'm sure the blue is the colour of water above sand and the tiny, wispy clouds look like waves breaking over distant swells. I envy the birds I see overhead, zipping joyfully from left to right and so far above the death and decay that pollute the lower levels. A day like this should be enjoyed completely. I should be able to forget what dwells in the towns around us, I should find it in myself to dismiss what happened at that crossing, I should.

Wouldn't it be strange, she thought, to have a blue sky? But she liked the way it looked. It would be beautiful - a blue sky.

...when she wakes up, there is silence, as though the day has held its breath.

Autumn that year painted the countryside in vivid shades of scarlet, saffron and russet, and the days were clear and crisp under harvest skies.

Feel free to look around, but being as though there aren't any people eighteen or older here, stay off the bed. I'm not allowed to get pregnant this weekend.

You__e the prettiest thing I__e seen fall from the sky today.

Zed : Penguins, such fascinating creatures, but I didn__ know you were studying them. What class is that you__e taking?Sky: The __e-stupid-looking-creature-should-stick-together_ class.

Have an appreciating eye to enjoy the beauty of sky.

But the sky is interesting, it changes all the time.

They've said your name sounds like an astronaut, but you don't go ascend above the sky.Don't you know you are a fall from the shooting star?

The sky, at sunset, looked like a carnivorous flower.

I don't want a rainbow... Rainbows have too many colors and none of them receive the appreciation they deserve... I'd prefer a fading red or a striking golden, a shimmery silver or a sober blue... Ruling the sunset sky alone!

The sky was the yellow color of old cheese and the clouds flew across it, as if they had seen something horrifying in the desert wastes where they had so lately been.

Darkly, deeply, beautifully blue - the sky

The sky of the color of ashes in the east and embers in the west.

But with what wonder has the season come?Its treasure lies in earthen ships,that carry dreams across the foam.And how your memory of Sarah rapesthe fleshly heart that once bore scenes,now veiled in smoky stains of tears;it cries as on its crutches leans,and ever fills itself with fears.Be born anew to taste the skyLay waste cocoon and upwind fly.

My mouth opened.It happened.Yes, with my head thrown into the sky, I started howling.Arms stretched out next to me, I howled, and everything came out of me. Visions pored up my throat and past voices surrounded me. The sky listened. The city didn't. I didn't care. All I cared about was that I was howling so that I could hear my voice and so I would remember that the boy had intensity and something to offer. I howled, oh, so loud and desperate, telling a world that I was here and I wouldn't lie down.

We're fascinated by things we can't figure out, by the things that don't have a right or wrong answer. Even when we can't explain them, we need to make some sort of sense out of them - create lists, find connections, map it out. Maybe that's why, when we can't seem to figure out all sorts of other more commonplace mysteries (like why we all keep looking at the sky as if it might talk to us), we still need to try.We think maybe it's a lot like love, that need to make sense of the sky. We don't know why we need it, we can't explain it when it happens or when it doesn't, but we need it like we need air or food.So we keep looking for it.