The Heavens Trapped

I see you walking on the beach with the shyness of a kite, toes gripping the sand with eyes that float to the ends of the sea - tell me (why do you look to the stars, love, when we are more amazing?) There are dreams within dreams in merely the sheen of your crystal clear eyes Yet with each breathless sigh I can hear you hesitate (...lunar cycles, she coolly states, we are but a phase...) Tell me, dear, where else do the heavens find themselves trapped but in your gaze? Does not the Sun give us light each day? (the Sea itself takes time to lick our feet, as vast as she is, despite how we treat her -- she comes back again, nevertheless) Is the Grass, as green as it is, aware of its sheen? Do the Miraculous Butterflies long to metamorphosize yet again (or are we the only creatures who dream?) Do the Mountains boast of their grandiosity, their towering tallness? (why then, do we meek and mild, feel embarrassed over our smallness?) Take me back to the time when all of these things were gods and we were merely chattel, (just the remains of a celestial battle) the forgotten residue ----is that You? An afterthought of a careless god from cradle to grave? We were unchained long ago, yet still think we're slaves... -- sitting on the hoods of our cars, wishing upon shooting stars, thinking love is somewhere out there beyond the clouds or perhaps even the ether And yet it's neither It's right HERE As tangible as the question lying in our reflection-- (the truth committing suicide on our tongues) We'll conquer every mountain, every sea, travel beyond the farthest galaxy... ...before we ever contemplate the miracle of You and Me