I wanted to share this poem from my oldest daughter, Caraline (16). . .
The sky is deep, dark, obscured.With closed eyes, imagination wanders
and finds you lost, deserted, helpless, afraid,
absorbed in overwhelming void.
Eyes open, the scene is revised.
Light illuminates, penetrating and conquering,
overpowering the Stygian dusk.
The black canvas is now candescent, pellucid,
painted with systematic constellations.
Stars sparkle, beam, twinkle, glow.
Artificial light extinguished, all around,
stars fill every dark place
in a glorious, panoramic display.
The God of Abraham revealed a glimpse
of His power, beauty, and glory
when He gave the galaxies their stars.
“He determines the number of the stars,
He gives to all of them their names”.
Heaven forbid a faith
in which such orderly, magnificent beauty
be result of accidental disarray!
Blanketed with infinite space,
you are made small,
insignificant, vulnerable, and powerless.
That is oft the beginning
of something beautiful.