As I gaze up at the cold winter sky;

I know spring will come, I ask not why.

The stars twinkle, I begin to tingle;

now I observe a really swell dingle.

The moon over yonder, it sheds its luster;

wonder what it's like to be in a cloister.

There goes the horned owl, I hear its call;

other creatures of the night, stirring at nightfall.

Bundled up warm I continue to gaze upward;

there's a shooting star, a treasure unmeasured.

The grandeur of the universe, it's quite impressive;

no wonder the Creator is so persuasive.

Glad there's no airplanes, no light pollution;

silence is golden, nature's interlocution.

I see some deer in the dim moonlight;

they just look at me, it's near midnight.

As I gaze up at the cold winter sky;

the vision and cold air, I remember the Magi.

What is man compared to the sky's constellation;

just look up at night, forget the dissertation.