The moon smirks and admires its view from the sky.

Mountains stretch, hoping to see what the moon sees from the sky.

Trees are frantically waving, hoping to be seen.

Jumping, moaning, calling out to the sky.

The pagoda stands tall, stoic and confident;

Evenly breathing the same air that’s been exhaled by the sky

She scans the land beyond the water,

Stops her eyes on her babies—lit up and smiling at the sky.