How Is It?

One day, a look into it from its guardians p.o.v. How would you answer?

I look up at the sky.
Stars shine in its eyes

The omniscient existence
Clouds mask its expression
Its question, complacent
How is it?

 

The earth, still solid.

Humans, still ignorant.

Air, still breathable.

Life, not dead yet.

Me, well...

*

Dawn.

I Look behind to the moon.

Its edge barely visible.

Sinking to a new night

Somewhere far away.

It yawns, the question, complacent.

How is it?

 

The earth, is cranky.

Humans, holding on to that last 5 minutes.

Air, a bit stagnant.

Life, still not dead.

Me, sleeping

*

Morning

I look up to the sunrise.

The rays a soft yellow,

Spreading its rosy fingertips

across the land, breathing new life

into creation.

It smiles brightly.

The question, complacent

How is it?

 

The earth, springing into routine.

Humans, putting off that routine.

Air, fresh.

Life, not dead yet.

Me, dreaming.

*

Afternoon

I look up to the noon.

The scorching reminder of who owns the day.

Sunburn stays happiness.

It’s a day for the solstice of a dark room.

Today’s a day for fallacy.

The noonday smiles pleasantly.

Its question, complacent.

How is it?

 

The earth, alive.

Humans, complaining.

Air, Humid.

Life, moving.

Me, basking in the shelter of a windowless room.

*

Evening

I look up to the moon.

It’s cresting the hills,

leaving them only to begin again.

It smiles happily, at the receding sun

Its question, complacent

How is it?

 

The earth, tired.

Humans, aggravated

Air, thin, and cooling off.

Life, winding down.

Me, holding on to the tips of my daydream.

*

Dusk

I look up to the moon,

Its proud form glows, radiating soft dominance

The stars begin to show,

Coolness wafts over the below.

The moon smiles proudly,

its question, complacent.

How is it?

 

The earth, asleep.

Humans, Catching up

Air, cool

Life, not dead yet

Me, wondering.

*

Midnight

I look up to the moon, at its peak of performance.

Its radiance echoes

The loving parent of the night.

It smiles, its question complacent.

How is it?

 

The earth, continuous.

Humans, repetitive

Air, still cool

Life, too dead to know it’s alive.

Me, longing.

*

Startled.

I look in the mirror.

A sleepless night staring back at me.

Hair a strewn. Eyes bloodshot shrouded in smudged makeup.

I yawn, and stretch.

My question, poignant.

How are you?