You are the farthest my eyes will ever see,
an anchor to them in the vastest, blackest sea.
What strengths you possess must truly be sublime,
that you should reach through all this space and time -
smallest of lights that shine.
You are the oldest my eyes will ever see,
I am but a child and until my end will be.
Should ever I believe wisdom to exist,
it must be native to your cradling mists -
the reason you persist?
You are the safest my soul will ever feel,
assurance that something much greater than me is real.
Never resting you race in burning flames,
and yet, for as long as I live you will remain -
with ever changing names.
Is it dark where you are? Because all pictures
show you surrounded by night.
Yet, I have learned in one of life's lectures,
you are
the maker of light.
"The Maker of Light" - result from a sleepless night
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