Originally uploaded by mincaye.
(Composed 8:05 a.m. this day. Special thanks to Li-Shia and Matthew.)
Satellite, you who turn your face towards us
Living on this earth, lifting the tide
By day and by night,
And the theme for a glad rush of song.
Why do you hide? As if afraid
Of your incandescent light... which
Isn't your light anyway,
But the soaring strength of the Sun
Reflected on your fractured face.
Though the clouds mask your sweet, shy smile,
Plotting to visit dark nights upon us,
You always return (as Albom wrote)
For the Sun still shines.
And in your fragile gaze,
Where scars and stripes do mar your face--
There is yet hope for the children of the earth:
If the glorious God of the heavens
Is living in your eyes
Then maybe we, his broken sons and daughters
Can limping live this life.