I look out of my window every night,
And I wonder.
I look into the distance,
I scour the canopy,
I dream and I ponder.
Could all the stars that glisten and shine,
Play host to their own game of chance and time.
Every one with the potential for creation,
A sand pit for chance to play its game.
Complexity and separation,
It's inevitable aim.
Captured in the chaos,
Structure begins.
Cohesion rendering a scene,
Only for those in it to see.
The beauty of it all,
And the potential of all that could come to be.