those stars that caught
the twinkle in my eye
never ceased to find
a better place to be
than suspended in the sky.

and in the morning
I awake to see
what nature has brought,
to rid the day
of our mediocrity.

come again
a restless breeze
that sweeps against
the dewy leaves
of stolid trees.

stagnant and sharp
are the pines of winter,
who selfishly hold tight
to their branches
hither and thither.

I sit under the shade
of the gloomy moon
and drink the air
of a midsummer night
in the depths of June.

what better to make
that splendid arc
across the sky
up in the land
that the angels hark.

the bottomless seas
and the boundless skies,
nothing has captured me more
than looking at your soul
through the windows of your eyes.