The Night Sky

Darkness falls.
Nebulas float like glowing lace.
Stars twinkle like a trillion candles.
Planets slowly dance in Heaven's halls.
Constellations march by in solemn procession.

Slowly, slowly, it all fades away.
The sun comes up, painting the sky with hazy watercolors.
Light chases away the magic of the darkness.
The sky sleeps, waiting for night to come once more.
And it will . . . it always does.

Darkness falls.
Galaxies spin in silent splendor.
Dust clouds swirl like wispy filigree.
Supernovae explode in fiery brilliance.
The night again weaves its mysterious tapestry.

The sun smiles once more on the sleeping Earth.
Sister Moon must wait again for him to set.
But she is patient,
For she knows that night will come again.
And it will . . . it always does.

Darkness falls.
Variable stars pulse like stellar clocks, ticking away the eons.
Quasars shine in unmatched glory; hot, white fire.
Countless suns sparkle in a myriad of colors.
It is a work of art; an unfinished symphony that is always changing.

The sun rises once again, drowning night's beauty in a sea of light,
Filling the sky with waves of brightness.
Fragile life comes and goes, like an ocean tide.
Darkness waits to come again.
And it will . . . it always does . . .

. . . it always does . . .

. . . it always does.