I stood staring at the stars,
Stars that seemed to throw me a question,
Questioning me, who made them?
Them that shine so bright,
Bright and Little coming only at night?
The night goes on, their question stays,
Stays with me, begging to know.
And Know I should, to give them an answer,
Answer that I search and search...
Searching every single place,
Places that can I see and can think,
Then think I do and I realize...
I realize the stars aren't really asking,
The asking is mine, to know my creator,
The creator who made the stars too..
The stars in reality are being a sign,
Sign for me to understand how,
How the Maker made them twinkle
Twinkling each night without fail,
Failure and flaws are not of Him,
Him who made all,
Made all with such perfection!.