The Night Sky's

Pride, plum, silver, un-shadowed silhouettes hang in air above mountain, mountains crest. Neuron glitter, sparkling, bright stars at rest. These the eyes of God? –Yet or His regrets? Eyes they are; what see they?, If seeing they through dank, and dark ,and gloom of might night still. In deep covered gorges; on side of hill? Who is he, he that can see and not say? Do they sparkle from God’s tears –as always! Extol Him! Extol Him! Praise Him! His name- Each sliver of star to Him is the same. To that is of stars and even of days, for each is here and or not but by His grace. Or praise yourself, for what stars you have made.