Philosophical

It sits there against the sable firmament
And nothing could have placed it any better
I don't know how, but it fits right there
Perhaps because there is where I've seen it
So many times before without knowing how

There is the right amount of embellishment
That frames the rich disk pulsing in yellow
Enthrallingly it is perched like the crocus
Majestically smiling down on us dross
In a world burning as a furnace does metal

It radiates a serene glow that comely invites
Feet to levitate behind it where nothing moves
Where I walk towards upon nights with nothing
And I wonder about the one who placed it there
Hanging perfectly for eyes to come later and see

Hanging Perfectly