Why Are The Stars Hiding?

While I stand under the artificial light,
The stars have hidden themselves from my sight.
As I walk along this trail,
The trees and bushes whisper their tale.
A tale of wisdom, power, and age,
With love gained lost on every page.
They sing to me an intricate sound,
Filling me up with knowledge unbound.

I leave the plants to their own ways,
And continue along this path of days.
The cobblestone on which I tread,
Tells me to forgo my senseless dread.
The music of a starless night,
Strengthens me with a holy might.
The sounds I hear are strange and new,
And yet familiar as if it were you.

My downcast eyes meet a fallen treasure,
A monarch butterfly by tone and measure.
I lift it up the precious little angel,
So very careful so not to mangle.
It may have died from human hands,
But with me it will glow in reverence.
I see in it the life of wishes,
Destroyed by human thoughts so vicious.

The trees sing out a mournful tune,
As I lift it up unto the moon.
The wind flutters it softly on my palm,
A mirror of it's life in psalm.
The cool air brushes lightly against my face,
And I walk slowly into it's chilly embrace.
Now the reason for the dark stars near,
Comes into focus crisp and clear.

All of heaven and of earth,
Watched this monarch from it's birth.
And now that it has past away,
The whole world grows colder for a day.
But while we mourn the monarch's death,
The trees and stones and grass and breath,
All sing a new song of hope and life,
As the stars shine brightly through the night.