How the stars are placed in ordnance so perfectly in the sky,
You think of who created them and all the reasons why.
Besides the science of the universe, there must be a poetic side.
An artist much more articulate than you and I.
I sometimes watch them for hours and hours at a time,
Hoping to see a shooting star to wish away the pain held inside.
To think of how beautiful the light disappears into the darkness of the night
And how the next morning will bring back the light.
A reoccurring circulation that every day we watch arise.
Every day we see it happen, but only a few of us realize.
It's almost become human nature to let this beauty pass us by.
We almost never take the time to admire the art that stands before our eyes.
A perception that is only seen through the vision of the wise,
Knowing there's something bigger than what we see on the outside.