A newborn me was welcomed by the world not with broad daylight,
I came in crying and squealing at the velvety, dark night,
The moon saw my despondent face, and offered me a hug,
As the 7 year old me fractured her toe, and couldn't fall asleep,
The stars saw me sitting quiet, and didn't let me weep,
When 9 year old me won her first prize, and was jumping up and down,
The moon and the stars seemed to become the prettiest white crown,
When the 11 year old me went adventurous for her first camping event,
The dark canopy over my head protected me everywhere I went,
When a 15 year old sleepless me felt life wasn't going her way,
The darkest night before the dawn, promised a better day,
As a 17 year old me sat excited, waiting to be an adult,
The sunset and the fall of dark, made my first birthday wishes felt,
Now a 20 year old me looks dazed, upon the beauty of the night,
The underestimated, but the most pretty of celestial lights,
I see the moon and the stars, and the shapes that they make,
There's a dog, two dancing feet, a tiara, reflected in the lake!
I see what never changes in my inconstant but mundane life,
The constant that enthralls and cuts through boredom like a knife,
I see myself sitting in the distance somewhere, fragile, ripe, and old,
Watching these stars with the same expression, as they watch my life unfold,
All those who mattered to me, and all those I hated and loved,
All see the same stars and moon, from down or from above,
I dream of unknown days and places I'll live in, summer, winter and fall,
And the only thing I know about them, the night will see them all.
The night watches you with a greater wisdom each day,
ReplyDeleteIt reads what you write, the melodious words that you say;
But in it's never ending constancy lies a greater sadness,
You will rise and fall, but the loneliness will drive it to madness.
It has reborn more than the entire humanity can fathom,
Yet all this time it still dances to the silence of the rhythm;
That's the beauty of the dark, starry night,
DeleteIt is as old or young as you think it is,
There's no night younger than when a baby is born,
And no darkness older than the one after death's final kiss,
The ever changing constancy of this beautiful blanket,
Has seen it's fair share of rise and fall,
No matter how deep a silence or loud a noise,
That's the amazing part, it covers them all,
Like everything else, there's two parts to it,
The dark velvet that threatens, and the lights that console,
If you don't look at it as a sad, old canopy,
It could well be the sight to make a broken heart whole.
Wow!! Loved this post! I like your writing style and your blog!
ReplyDelete