(Those first twenty-eight words don't count)
(Neither do those six...)
There is nothing like the sky.
The sky inspires us. The sky is a fantastic illusion. In the light of day, the sky is a jewel, ever changing, from a blue sapphire at noon, to a pearl after the rainstorm, to a fiery western ruby, at sunset.
Sometimes we paint the sky.
Sometimes God paints the sky.
At night, the sky opens up, and we send our wishes to the stars, and we look up, into the face of time.
The sky is where we dream. We dream of flight. We dream of other worlds.
We look up, always up.