Soft sky

A soft sky guards the playground; angels watching over the children as they play. Why is it that we only pay attention when the sky is red or a child cries? What about the blue and banal, does it not deserve our eyes and their thinking? Perhaps we are scared to look, in fear of disrupting that peace - collapsing the particle-wave - with our look. Our attention. So we exist-only half-conscious and delegate the rest to angels.