Between the festive play of twinkling light
and days' events so crowded in this time
I ponder stars and secrets of the night

ones eluding logic, even second sight,
in dream or out. I dance the line
between the festive play of twinkling light

and fading spirit in the den, the mortal fight
with voices dark and expectations. Such a crime.
I ponder stars and secrets of the night

more private angst than war or blight,
then nascent thoughts like soothing rhyme
between the festive play of twinkling light

come calm and graceful, at last I write,
and once the ink has dried, the words sublime,
I ponder stars and secrets of the night

the answers clear as love, and bright,
each moment blessed. The gift is mine
between the festive play of twinkling light
embracing stars and secrets of the night.

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