Out the window, across the road,
over the asphalt-covered lot, littered with cars,
behind the skeletal silhouettes of three lone trees,
the morning sun, casts a horizontal vein of pink across the sky.

This splash of vivid pink separates the heavens from the earth,
others might say it’s a spiritual boundary;
or it’s there to let man know
there is another part to his world, and to his life.

A part of life man can reach only through his dreams,
or through his death.
I think I’ll visit it in my dreams,
and reside there only after my death.

The sky grows lighter now,
and with each passing minute,
to the beholder, the vein of pink become pale,
This separation between heaven and earth
will always disappear, and the two will be as one,
divided only by man’s dreams and thoughts.

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