Stars twinkle through the canopy,
a blanket of diamonds,
held tight by the velvet night.
Crickets sing soft lullabies,
a chorus rising from the grass,
a reminder that darkness
holds its own light.
The moon spills silver
over the hills and creeks,
casting shadows that dance,
wrapping the world in dreams
and sleep’s gentle embrace.
Under this celestial vault,
we are all children,
dreaming beneath the heavens,
where the universe hums
its ancient song.

• Lanford Wilson