Now it feels as if I have lain down within the central circle of Serenade. Held close by Mother Earth, I look up to see the sky and the clouds - sailing, shifting, twisting or bumping along as they are gently held, stretched or squashed by the wind.
To observe and also to imagine what might happen if the sky crashed down upon us or exploded into zillions of small pieces - odd shapes, slithers, chinks, chunks and slices of sky: would they reflect light or soak up the darkness?
Energised by some unseen force, maybe they would swirl around the world, laughing, chattering, a cacophony to get the people to look up in wonder, amazement or horror?
Perhaps they would collectively spy the moon, make a beeline for it, and look down upon us. And maybe one or two, would, like the moon, fall in love with their own Endymion!
If they circled the sun, would the refracted light blind us, and if they zoomed off to visit distant planets would they ever return?
These visions and more are revealed as my feelings and emotions ricochet between awe, anger and wonderment; darkness and light - reflecting the precarious state of Planet Earth and our life upon it.