Cerulean mirror, true to color,
reflected the rouge hue
the setting sun left; a celestial beauty
that only the Supreme Architect could fashion.
That such cosmic beauty could have radiated
from a galactic scrapheap—once revered
an astral pearl—was beyond the limitations
of mere terrestrial comprehension.
Indeed, only the Sun of the Father could score
such a super sonata that only the planetary eyes
of Mother Earth could hear.