The Night Sky

A shadow dotted with a million lights,
so dark it still gives me the frights.
The pale disc of the moon suspended by invisible threads,
sends down my spine shivers of dread.

And the stars, oh dazzling hot beauties,
just stay they in one place without duties,
shining and casting their blinding light,
which is whiter than white.

The eeriness of this is that someone far,
would see the same thing - same moon same star,
and see the same abyss of the sky,
finding in it something to smile and cry,
for here it is said the dead went,
looking at us while every moment we spend.

And it is said that there is,
in the same abyss,
a million planets and many galaxies,
and Heaven from which blows tunes of music like breeze.

Find the right place to watch and you will see,
shooting stars flying with glee.
and perhaps you'll hear the same divine voice,
that every meditating Brahmin has heard,
words that are wise.

Should you believe in every heard word,
the world will turn into something different,
a place where the illusions are so bright you've got to squint.

Or you can see something smiling at you,
removing all your blue.
It seems stimulating,
something worth staring,
for it removes weary feelings.

Mysteriously eerie is the night sky,
it glows, it darkens and shies.
However changing it appears to be,
arising feelings eerie or happy,
It is, it remains as it is,
an overhead black abyss.

A Poem By Jiya Doshi, Age 12 Years