The scroll

This poem was inspired by an image of a roll cloud on the internet.

The scroll is a long 
unrolling curl

The stars are far
unfolding worlds

And what do we know
of ancient skies

When the scroll
was not so long

And the stars
were in position wrong

But were just as true
then as now

And will still be 
when we reach the end 

Of future skies
that in a moment descend 

As the scroll rolls shut
in thunderous assent.