and at blue midnight each night the moon chases the sun around the earth so fast that you can't see but flashes of light you call stars

but they're not.

because on a morning long long ago when the earth was as brown as mahoghany wood and the fields were as green as the sky, one man of the hundreds looked up and to no one at all said

"I wish that the top was the bottom, the bottom the top; to stand on the fresh fields of sky with rocks that are soft fluff of clouds and the stars are the Indian Paintbrush and the birds dip their wings in the sea.