A Poet's Serenade

Woven golden threads
In the palms of my hands.
Shooting stars
Up to Mars.
Taking flight
Spreading light.
Blinding strangers
Carrying angels.
They travel far 
Move through cars.
In an unstoppable flow
Believe me, they glow.

What would I do without their kind?
Perhaps I'd lose my mind.
For one thing I know for sure:
Life's pain would be too much to endure.