The glowing fires of midnight skies raise the morning as they fly.
A radiant sphere of enduring power ignites the world with light in showers.
A twinkle in the father's eye, a searching quest and lightest sigh.
For though the stars are bright and grand, he reaches farther for her hand.
A creature knit in darkest womb, woven with majestic loom,
in His image you are made, right and complete with naught a blade.
The loving heart He takes and molds; lifts the tissue; then He folds. A work of art, a dear gem pure; drenched in starlight He is sure.
Though the glory of the stars reaches deep and stretches far,
a child of God is more precious still and you dear daughter were His Will.
-------------
Never doubt the love your father showers you with