Tiny Sky
by Stephen Sheridan Boland IV

From the far west to the far east,
the sky's stretching seems to have never ceased.
From the far south to the far north.
Onward and onward the sky stretches forth.

Even the tallest mountain peak
when compared to the sky, seems oh so meek.
Even the largest, most vast sea
Is not as large as the sky, and can't be.

Yet, in spite of the sky's great height,
it is still has it's limits. It's still finite.
Despite how far it may extend,
It pales next to glory without an end.

Looking up at the sky, I know
it looked the same so very long ago.
I marvel when I think of how,
it might look the same a long time from now.

As I see a swift flying bird,
I know the very same thing has occurred
so many times within the past,
and this probably will not be the last.

Yet this great sky I look upon,
someday, sometime, even it will be gone.
Though it has been there for so long,
even the sky will sing its final song.

Yes, the sky seems like a tiny dot
when the great glory of God has been sought.
Glory infinitely more vast.
Eternal glory the sky won't outlast.

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