The sky above, a canvas wide,
Where dreams and whispers often hide,
With hues of dawn and dusk’s embrace,
It paints a world of endless grace.

Beneath the stars, in midnight’s hue,
The secrets of the universe accrue,
A silent song, a cosmic dance,
In every twinkle, a fleeting chance.

Clouds drift by, in shapes they form,
A fleeting life, a passing storm,
In their shadows, tales unfold,
Stories of old, in whispers told.

The sky, a mirror of our soul,
Reflecting dreams that make us whole,
In every sunrise, hope anew,
A promise kept, the sky so true.