To capture the stars and their perfect form,
A dream of preserving their light.
Like trying to capture the eye of a storm,
Oh how could you keep something so bright.
To us they sit quiet, on night’s dark platform,
Just out of reach, from any grasp or might.
But in systems they burn as a swarm,
A life cycle itself, it’s own death, it’s fright.
Distance hides their terror, their reform,
True nature a mystery which passions do insight.
In it’s mystery a wonder stirs, keeps warm,
Those far off pieces of our puzzle, our right.