Wednesday, September 25, 2019
The Light of Stars Long Dead
Bathed in the luster of a trillion suns,
I sadly surveilled ev'ry point of light;
Knowing some were ghosts, but never which ones.
I treasured each twinkle that I perceived,
As a flickering flame from time long past,
Or a message in a bottle received,
Across a dark, airless desert so vast
It can't be conceived by one such as I.
Yet, I felt summoned to investigate:
Each tiny flash beckoned my heart to fly,
Where the answers to my questions await.
I stood in the dark, at one with the sky,
Knowing just like me, even stars must die.
My words are my star, my fire, my cry,
And glow with a fierce, ferocious light.
I pray they shine even after I die,
And twinkle in somebody's darkest night.
I was just reflecting on why I write poems.
Posted by Mick at 2:55 PM