Starlight, Star bright

if I were to start anew
as a young innocent
placed in primordial forest

what would I think of the stars?

something that appeared when the darkness came
something constant
deserving of worship

would I imagine that their beauteous brightness
held sway
by collecting the day
to store it away
in a panoply of points perfect?

this artless array
in its collection countless
with effusive emission
each morn would bring back to us
the light heavenly
alchemized with subtle change

or, would I simply think
that each black night
was a shroud enormous
cloaking the sky
but pockmarked with a billion tiny holes
through which I could see the day peeping
awaiting its dissolution?