Once the horizon engulfs the ball of fire, what do you see?

Do the specs of glitter twinkle through the black night?

Do the radiant jewels pirouette in your sight?

Or does the actual star of the show catch your attention?

Her beautiful majesty I should mention,

The moon, whose face hid behind the shadows of night,

Now shows her full face sharing a symphony of light, 

The moon, singing gospels from angels in the heavens above,

She bathes the world in her ethical love,

The moon, a spotlight illuminating a pitch black page,

And all the twinkling stars telling stories of ancient age,

But what if the dazzling night was more than meets the eye,

What if the stars were just golden tears from the angels’ cry,

What if the stars were trapped souls frozen in prisons,

Or, a flock of doves caught on fire in the heavens,

Whatever they are,

They will always hold etching tales from realms afar.