The Sky

The sky opened like brown paper packaging
All the people shouted- no sound was released
Planets fell against stars, against suns and comets
Amazing, we were dazed turning and collapsing
Hair floated up, we were sad and smiling and different
Eyes gazed out against the connecting moments
We were losing, claiming seconds abstract, a theory
It was grave, their were stones, concern was in our hearts
Jewels were in our metals, thoughts were in our woe
Piano notes came against the last day's light
The real words were parted from the silence with bruised shadow
Precious lips were open, there were no cameras to capture the sparrow
The river was free, full of papers and jackets of war
May was followed by floods, famine and alcoholism
Piano's stood, alone, baring their mouths open and ready to devour
Caution was buried with the granite, bullet shell and whispers
No one nudged against the Hallelujah, nor saw the tears of the handsome lad
A love letter was sent to heaven, was lost and delivered to August
The Coldest month, full of black birds, brown leaves and decay
And the highest brow, the coldest tongue, the warmest hands all turned
The shapes became new sounds, the smells became new wisdom
The impossible is left alone, proud and sanctified
Extra light is pushed to the front of the view, pressed against the horizon
Ready for the marching soldiers to smash into it, bloody and handsome
Mansions on fire, surrounded by imagination
Money steamed, buried and questioned
The sky opened like the parcel of Christmas
And we stand alone, single and spoiled
The smell of Raisins and sweating grains come against the wind
Nobody knows the standing weather
Nobody knows the lights that flash
Spelling the names of the men in my book
And the the sky swallows us whole