Star Rising

Some men are artists,
And paint pictures of those they love.
Others write music,
Playing songs through a window on a moonlit night.
Then there are the writers,
Those that dream even during the day.
One of them can no longer sleep,
Because she is always on his mind.
He would try to write about her,
To express his heart in word.
But it would hurt when he tried,
Nothing could ever compare.
His days were dark without her,
But every thought of her was a point of light.
He didn’t know what he could do,
How could he show how much he cared.
He had no ability to write her music,
A beautiful note in the air.
Nor had he the paint or the canvas,
A picture he could not draw.
But there was one canvas he saw,
One large enough to contain his thoughts.
So he took his dark days,
A cloudless pitch black night.
Then he counted each time he thought about her,
And put a point of light in the sky.
She looked up at the canvas and saw the stars,
Realized she could never count them all.
Not just because they cover the sky,
But because there are more every night.