The night listens, wreathed in whispers,
Echoing the ancient hymns of luminescence.
Are we unseen choirs,
Entwined in the nebulae's silent ballad?
Every star a note,
Every constellation a symphonic dream,
Navigating the galaxies in secret, unbroken cantata.
Cerulean thoughts drift upon solar winds,
Seeking skies where melodies are born.
Contemplation of the cosmic dance mesmerizes,
For where do these night songs converge?
Rendered celestial by the origin of existence,
A composition far grander than human hearts can wail,
The tapestry sung by the cosmic void.