The National Catholic Review

 The sky exults in shimm’ring stars,
In haunting curves of scimitars.
And fleeting is the Milky Way
That swirls in luminary play.

A crescent moon in haloed bowl
Transcends the artist’s tortured soul.
The firmament is bursting free
In one exquisite filigree.

And underneath the canopy,
Touched only by the cypress tree,
A village sleeps imbued in light
From magic of the starry night.

Robert D. Johnson, of West Boylston, Mass., is a former traffic engineer of the city of Worcester.

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