Maybe rainbows do come after the rain,
Yet disappear the minute I check,
And all there is that remains
Are the tracks of the storm-the wreck


Maybe the sun does rise before noon somehow
But only when I'm still inside my dreams.
Are dreams the only mediums right now
For life to become more than what it seems?


Maybe the moon does have a face up above
But turns around when I look too soon.
Does it smile because of the earth, its love,
Or by jokes from the man on the moon


Maybe stars exceed more than a billion,
Yet only few are happily ever afters.
In my case, am I a special constellation
Or just another star among the others?


Maybe right now, your staring at my direction.
Be that true, of all the daily wonders in my list.
If its in my eyes, that your gaze finds connection ,
         Will I sooner believe that miracles truly exist

*Does the look of love ever miss?

You* are not small
You are not unworthy.
You are not insignificant.

The universe wove you from a constellation
just so atom, every fibre in you comes
from a different star.

Together, you are bound by stardust altogether
spectacularly created from the energy of the universe
itself.
And that, my darling,
is the poetry of physics,
the poetry of you.