Sing maybe.

Let us sing! Maybe,
beneath here-there showers of stars,
by gaze of dim lamp that is Moon.
Let us yell aloud, sore songs of Sun that daily flees,
let us bellow hymns in awe of the many insomniac stars.
Let us perchance, by light,
retell to cozy clouds, temper of searing Sun,
our chants to echo dew to mist of travels.
Let us sing! Mayhap,
let us chorus to she (earth) that swirls yet does not tell,
let us hum to her, songs, journeying as, in turns.
Let us now, to the rising rains, songs of appeasement,
croon to coming thunders, songs of harmony.
Let us carol in the many whispering winds,
Of s/he within,
Of love,
Let us say here, a thou, thou songs.