Image Credit: Vadim Sadovski/Shutterstock.com

Up in the stratosphere I see you dance
Lost seraphim so little understood
Lumbering silent though the aching sky

Once heralded as gods of circumstance
Offering pain or offering good
Till they stopped believing by and by

If you stray from orbit by some chance
You’ll remind them you are made of blood
Once they remember they will cry

( c) Helen Valentina 2018