As we enter the world, the sky proclaims its openness

Without a cloud, it’s calm and motionless

A witness whose moods are always displayed

Despite the winds it holds, it is never swayed

When eyes aren’t open, we run into walls

Light’s yet to trickle in, the mind’s windowless halls

Even a tiny window would suffice

To banish darkness in a trice

If we allow, a door will naturally form

Giving us the open, yet holding back the storm

Not a retreat, but a bold entry

Thoughts will conspire like disaffected gentry

Open skies, there is no higher symbol

Host to countless versions of a storm’s rumble

Wisdom does not step out of its benign silence

When we lose that taste, we forgo balance