The Sky at Night

The Sky at Night

At best 

A comfortable bed leads to

Thinking of a thousand questions

For whomever lives on a planet

Revolving around that star

Stared at for hours

Laying on the grass

Of a small observatory

At its worst

A religion is formed

After which the spreading

Of an insipid pile of mental dung

To the tribe in surrounding tents

Builds a worldwide following

Each tribe changes the story

To suit their own creation

Every question founded

Forces another question

To the surface of this puddle

The answer is the same

Absurdity prevails as paddling

Pushes every thought

Farther from the edge

Of a home that's warm and simple

Even these words have changed

From the first inspiration

That created the dawn

That breaks sleep upon this grass

The door opens the car starts

As the highway to a temporary home

Clicks with a familiar tone

Adding music to confusion

Barry G. Wick