Skylight To The Stars Poem by Matt Mooney

Skylight of pine like a picture frame,
Only eye of my sleepless musing;
What strikes me at this hour of dreams
Is the single star that looks at me
From the depths of our lovely universe.

I’d love to know if the builders charged
For your beacon light so gifted;
As I lie on my back my thoughts of black
Slip away with the blind I’ve lifted.

Now I think of today by the River Rhone
And hills so high with slopes of trees
Where hosts of village houses stand:
St. Galmier, its square with cafés there;
A fruit shop of reds and yellows;
A church of stone standing all alone,
Its walls being cleansed by craftsmen.

While alas I lie and look on high
And muse on the higher heavens
I have found it wise to think of time:
For the dawn has stolen my star away
And all that’s left to me today,
Is a frame with a bright blue canvas.