The night skies beg to be appreciated
but everyone has gone to sleep.
The stars and clouds and blueness
reveal our dreams as equally deep.
Just because you have to get up early
to prepare for school and work and play
mostly thinking yourself silly
for the life of yours in appropriate display.
The brilliant glitter that chart the skies
with legends, tales and lore
is left to disappear without an audience.
There goes the wonderment, out through the door.
Windows are shut, air cons are up
curtains are drawn, eyes shut tight.
When the dark rises and light goes out
everyone gathers in front of the noise so white.
From the ends of the world the sky stretches
with hanging ornaments to fill the spaces.
A light zephyr contributes to the rhythm
the nightjar sings in perfect tune.
How is it possible for everyone
to miss a magnificent exhibit,
when all it needs are eyes
to turn towards what's only exquisite.
The night skies beg to differ
in the timeless twilight zone.
Not once so much as a flicker
did anyone realised they're not alone.