Thank you, Anni. Maybe I'm a masochist because I do like making things difficult for myself. I considered rhyming each line as well, but that was a bridge too far. Perhaps next time...
Consider the wide sky above,
the great emptiness overhead,
yet He paints it broadly with love
from foggy grey to evening red;
such care upon a mere backdrop,
He scatters celestial fires,
all this to bring us to full stop,
to lift us above our desires.
Line count: 8
Rhymed abab, syllables eight per line
For Express It In Eight, 04.19.23
Prompt: Write a poem about something overhead.
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