Why is it so hard to imagine what is beyond this atmosphere?
The sky is a show, displaying every color in its palette as the artist moves his lamp.
When the power is cut and the artist lays his brush to rest, his protagonists glance out into the wide room.
They see the many worlds he's created and wonder whether they too are as magnificent as this one.
Only in the darkness of the room do they see the glow of distant lights which interpret their Maker.
If here it is dark and there is aglow, the giving of light is one only my Maker knows.