Paradise And the Ship of Fools
Prose poem by David Sky

In paradise exotic beauty gleams off of every single living and non living surface alike. In paradise the skies dance with hyper color so electric blue in its intensity that if you listen carefully, you can hear it sizzle; there are thousands of graduated shades of orange, yellow, red and green all washing across the sizzling blues above and the multitudes of greens all around and at sunset each night a warm, benevolent sun slips down into the oceans horizon with to that sensitive ear the softest of sighs. Even if the skies were on fire with the roiling, burnt and horrid colors of the apocalypse - in paradise it would be a spectacle of perfect awe and splendor to witness!

So come friends, one and all, join us upon the ample deck of this Ship of Fools! It is only paradise, after all, and in paradise what better way to greet the cataclysmic abyss than a party with all hands on the deck!. Let there be music and dancing. Let us share what we may have freely on this eve of our doom. Let there be joy and beauty and strength and love. Not out of some Bacchic abandon rather invoking a unity and abiding respect for all creatures and all people in this life so that here at the end of it our many lives, alas, meld seamlessly into one, joyous, dancing thing.