It's late night with the stars hanging blue-white speckled
and one or two that suddenly do jump
where the moon hangs full and golden-yellow
before many do fall or jump
in a meteorite rain
as if somewhere they do fall from the stomach of a comet
and it's in moments like these
where a human does know about the awe of the universe,
do know how dust-particle small a person is
against the omnipotence en magic power
of a Creator
that loving do prepare the universe
like a lover for a bride.
© Gert Strydom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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