Tomorrow you shall see
the barren Heavens
shimmering with stars;
the dark of the night
ousted by a nascent moonlight.
For tonight,
this empty expanse of ebony
is inspired by you;
it has looked into your eyes
and said that it wants to
sparkle the way they do.
It has watched
your smile illuminate the world,
and cannot live with the shame
of not being the same.
But the night after
shall be inky again,
for the stars will renege
and the moon will concede —
accepting defeat.
The Creator will realise
that even He cannot recreate
beauty such as yours.
You are magic
and you are wonder.
The spell that this
dark night sky
is under.
Unable to emulate you,
to be as you are;
unable to imitate you,
the dark will
bow down to you.
The moon,
feeling lesser,
will sneak out.
The stars, the planets
and the cosmic sum,
finding no home,
will surrender.
