Ryan Moore

MIRACLE IN THE SKY

Toasty warm in my mummy bag

Frigid air rushing across my face

Voices awaken me to get up and stare into space

Crouching under canvas dome

The zipper feeling as cold as chrome

Piercing wind makes me shake

I don’t long to be awake

Glowing embers beckon me

They provide warmth and light to see

Awestruck while looking up

Shooting stars in the giant black cup

Stars streaking across the sky

Each comet beginning to die

Flashes of light moving in every direction

Truly a miracle deserving reflection

Ball of gas speeding as a shooting star

Seemingly so close, but yet so far

The shower is growing old

As I become increasingly cold

Quickly returning to my tent

I feel my time was well spent