There Must Be A Poet

There must be a poet somewhere who could describe in a language, possibly not one that I could understand, this magnificient sky.

All my words fall short, as if they come to the edge of a brink and tumble down into some unknown. My words, so ill kempt and trite, those kind of words come up short as the setting sun illuminates this set of clouds that never was and never will be again.

But I'd like to think that somewhere, there must be poet, maybe the Grand Poet, who could write in some language about this beauty.