To see clearly into the crystal empyrean,
The midnight blue of a November night,
Is to see the soul of God Himself,
And the infinity of our lonely plight.
The stars far flung across the firmament,
A testament of all that we yearn;
But how will we ever attain our desires,
When the things in our reach we continually spurn.
Streaking silver at the periphery of vision,
Leave us searching expectantly for another meteor.
Not unlike inspirations imparted by dreams;
Fleeting even as we realize its purport.
The sky carries forward, the night progresses
And the moon forges ahead to the horizon.
The midnight blue of the November night
Slowly fades to the rising sun.