dear friends,
it’s been a long week and a longer winter.
i began daydreaming about the warm weather
and the annual vacation we take each August.
we rent a 5 bedroom houseboat on Holly Lake
in Tennessee and find our favorite cove and
tie up for 10 ten days.
this is a repost, i edited the form. it was written
in one sitting at 3am as i sat as i always do, on the
top deck while family and friends were asleep. this song
was playing in my headphones and this poem was inspired by
the incredible shower of shooting stars that crossed the sky.
please play the song and begin reading…ty and i hope you enjoy.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
when
the
S u n
is
busy
elsewhere…..
.
.
and
the
night
descends
upon
your
world…
.
.
in
your
S i l e n c e…
.
.
in
the
S e r e n i t y
of
forgiving
S o l i t u d e…
.
.
cast
away
the
fear,
.
.
just
S u r r e n d e r
your
heart
.
.
and
.
.
L i s t e n.
.
.
beg
your
eyes
to
open,
.
.
to
gaze
so
high
above
the
low
horizon.
.
.
there…
beyond
any
doubt
.
.
behind
the
shadow
of
constant
cloud,
.
.
S h e
can
be
seen
each
night
cajoling
every
S t a r
in
your
S k y.
.
.
B e l i e v e,
.
.
embrace
your
F a i t h.
.
.
S h e
is
O m n i p r e s e n t,
.
.
S h e
is
E v e r l a s t i n g.
.
.
S h e
is
a
daughter
of
the
U n i v e r s e,
.
.
a
S i r e n
of
S h o o t i n g
S t a r s.
.
.
her
voice
a
chorus,
.
.
a
H a r m o n y
of
every
melody
devoted
to
.
.
L o v e.
.
.
her
history
our
yearning,
.
.
the
sum
of
our
forgotten
M e m o r y.
.
.
her
shape,
a
C o s m i c
swirling
of
I n f i n i t e
density.
.
.
S h e
talks
to
S t a r s,
.
.
in
the
U n i v e r s a l
language
of
L o v e,
of
.
.
R e a s s u r a n c e.
.
.
a
S i r e n
offering
C o u r a g e
to
erase
their
fear.
.
.
‘my bashful star,
.
.
ready yourself for the voyage.
.
.
T i m e
is
N o w.’
.
.
‘oh, lovely star
.
.
hear my song,
.
.
my Melody of Love as you fly’
.
.
‘go little star!
.
blaze a trail
.
.
across the midnight sky’
.
.
and
become
N o w,
.
.
what you were always meant to Be.’
.
.
and show this world
.
.
P e r f e c t i o n,
.
.
in your moment of
.
.
E t e r n i t y.’
.
.
who could know then 