Looking Up Through the Trees

Above each top

There is yet another

And the bottom

Is likely a notion

To assure

Containment

That is more of a wish

And a need

Than it is a reality.

.

Green above brown,

Blue above green,

Black above blue

And all that we

Experience

Or imagine

In between.

.

Gazing upwards is tempting

But not being lizards

With rotating eyes,

We can see clearly

Only in one direction

At a time

And

While looking up

Run the risk

Of crashing into

Something sharing the

Plane we are on.

An almost certain ouch

That is sometimes

Worth it.

.

Eyes aimed downward

Invites the same chance

Of not seeing

Where we are going

Leading us to stumble

In an inglorious dance.

.

But without risks

There is no life.

There is no movement

Without a stumble

Or some strife.

We were destined to gaze

At the sky

And to glance downward

At times;

To deny either or both

Mark our human

Curiosity unfairly

As crimes.