Gaping at the typical urban nightsky,
Layer'd with a blanket of cirrus,
Where shimmering lamps seem hidden,
And silvery glitter almost vague.
Tides of zephyr sweep through the windowpane,
At different scales though very gently.
Feels like the sigh of the all-powerful,
Reaching the mortal living-dead mankind.
Sounds like a sweet soothing lullaby,
Can't be heard rather felt;
Reaching the deepest trenches of my heart,
Shaping the sheer beauty of nature. . .