How does the sky blue

Why does the sky blue, beyond its deep crawling clouds?
Blue, today, a sweet and sobbing trumpet song
Each note royal, brilliant, purpling
Into the next crisp reverberating tone.
Footbone, shinbone: feel the green hill roar
Its echo--blue and gold in its deep
Rocks, its secret bones, beneath its green--
Slow earth echo rings its rocks and pockets
Hums and thrills in ear, in fingerbones,
In ankle, clavicle, in old skull seams--
The hills ringing gold cannot still
Or hold this joy
Outswelling from Your bought, forgiven saints.

Made deep with grief released, with sweet true grief

That swelling sobbing thanks 

Presses their blood against their skin.

Is sung. Unsung, bursts out in fountains. 

Stains the sky:

Purple and crimson, dearly bought--

And flushing pink as cherished as a bride--

And blue! Deep, boundless blue

Spills up, and out. Blue spouts and shouts and flows--
Joy stains the wide sky with its overflow.

Eager, tender, urgent, bold

Presses every fold of space

And spangles stars in it.
Wondering, starkissed, lovestruck--heaven
Trembles. Rings with the glorious meek song.

And see! How beautiful Your chosen bride--

How radiant unveiled. Her loved face shines

And grateful tears--like gems, like stars--

Catch and reflect Your love in sparks of light--
Like stars that sing among the boundless night.