Music of the Stars

Singing their melody
With visual light,
Their rhythm of
Blinking words for shapes.
The sky is their stage,
The constellations are their playlists.
Each star
Strikes a chord
On their instrument of beauty.
It echoes over the horizon,
Shining down on those who would hear.

Thoughts of a Forest

All rests
When dawn approaches.
The mist dissapates,
No longer needed
To hide what was once there.
Empty branches
Relax to a more comfortable position,
Recovering from
A night of battle.
Reaching and grabbing
The nightmares of
Small children,
Come to life.
The great oaks
Stand guard
Over their forest.