Moonlight pools in the furrowed fields.
Each grain-topped stalk reaches up
To caress the dark sky’s face.
A hush has fallen over our common earth,
But the heavens are alive with song.
The stars pour forth melodies, harmonies,
Endless arias, spiraling refrains.
Their silver voices sing clear in the night.
Who but God has ears to listen?
Who but God and his legions of angels?
If we could hear but one chord of that song,
We would never again doubt the beauty of existence
Or the perfection of eternity to come,
Wrapped in the symphonies of heaven.