If I Were a Poet

My heart roams wild on summer nights like these:
While all the world is still, the stars cavort,
performing timeless choreographies
more intricate than human eyes can sort.
A symphony of crickets serenades
my meditation, quieting my thoughts.
Angels march invisible parades
across the sky, and I am dizzy, caught
in beauty raging like a hurricane.
A dormant power in my soul is stirred;
I shed my skin, throw off my earthly chains,
allowing me to hear what was unheard:
A billion stars in unison proclaim
their praise to one who calls each star by name.