Spirit (an acrostic poem)

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She looked into the night sky and pondered her place.

Perhaps she was just a gathering of dust on a rocky mote flying through emptiness.

It made her feel small and insignificant,

Refuse of exploded suns long since forgotten in the cosmic background.

If that was it, well, that was still pretty cool.

The fact that her ancestors were ancient suns lightened her soul, and her smile lit up the night.

Stars (an acrostic poem)

So many distant suns twinkling as they watch from above

They escort the night across the sky

Arriving at the horizon to be relieved of their duty

Resting till called upon as their little sister fades to black

Silent sentries stoic in their duty

 

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