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Stars of the Winter Sky
- Stars of the Winter Sky -
A Meditation on My Heart as Winter Approaches
Sometimes, in certain moments, of deepest thought,
I feel like nobody understands me, or sees my heart.
Maybe they think I am mad, or mayhap a bit fraught…
With too many thoughts that set my soul a bit apart!
Some have their expectations, and others their ideas,
But I am: me, and that is all; I cannot please everyone.
Life is hard sometimes, and full of dark, rocky seas…
As winter approaches and cold grows even the sun,
Or so it seems when the wind blows and I feel chill.
Where is summer’s warmth, my fey blood’s delight?
This time of year it seems far away, so distant until…
Spring’s blossoms return, beyond the winter’s night!
Every year the flowers die, and I weep for them so,
Because my heart is tender and loving, nurturing too.
Why then must I be filled with sorrow and sad woe?
Even as I wish upon a star, fair dreams to come true.
Why must the fireflies go away because of the snow?
I must endure both winter and night yet, and swiftly!
In the mirror I try to behold the beauty that I know,
And, I try not to cry, never to lose my royal dignity.
Is that not what is expected of a lady, to be perfect?
But I was never perfect; I am flawed and I am sinful.
I never do what convention wants or others expect,
And I will never repent this, I will not be sorrowful…
About being me, though I cry because I feel so alone.
Where is my soul’s mate, where is another as I am?
I will never be conventional; for that, I cannot atone.
When will my fair princess come and take my hand!
Too many winters, too many seasons of pale death,
Have these eyes beheld, when they long just for joy.
The season hastens, when frost forms of the breath,
Blown on windowpanes, with such childlike employ.
And winter comes, as flowers die, clouds gathering,
To match the shadows upon my heart, so darksome!
I keep seeking light, and for love I must always sing,
Even if I am mad, I refuse to exist always lonesome…
Madder people than I have found of true happiness!
Why then, should I bow, unto conventional thinking?
I refuse to; my spirit is too beautiful for such distress.
Even in winter, the stars are on high, ever twinkling…
And they care not what people think of their warmth.
I will not grow cold for convention’s sake, or perish,
When I may become stronger, greater in my worth…
For the worth of a bright soul is like a granted wish:
It can succeed where others might falter into abysses.
There must be another like me out there, dreaming…
Of my face and form and the moistness of my kisses.
As I dream of her, as the stars shine down gleaming!
A Meditation on My Heart as Winter Approaches
Sometimes, in certain moments, of deepest thought,
I feel like nobody understands me, or sees my heart.
Maybe they think I am mad, or mayhap a bit fraught…
With too many thoughts that set my soul a bit apart!
Some have their expectations, and others their ideas,
But I am: me, and that is all; I cannot please everyone.
Life is hard sometimes, and full of dark, rocky seas…
As winter approaches and cold grows even the sun,
Or so it seems when the wind blows and I feel chill.
Where is summer’s warmth, my fey blood’s delight?
This time of year it seems far away, so distant until…
Spring’s blossoms return, beyond the winter’s night!
Every year the flowers die, and I weep for them so,
Because my heart is tender and loving, nurturing too.
Why then must I be filled with sorrow and sad woe?
Even as I wish upon a star, fair dreams to come true.
Why must the fireflies go away because of the snow?
I must endure both winter and night yet, and swiftly!
In the mirror I try to behold the beauty that I know,
And, I try not to cry, never to lose my royal dignity.
Is that not what is expected of a lady, to be perfect?
But I was never perfect; I am flawed and I am sinful.
I never do what convention wants or others expect,
And I will never repent this, I will not be sorrowful…
About being me, though I cry because I feel so alone.
Where is my soul’s mate, where is another as I am?
I will never be conventional; for that, I cannot atone.
When will my fair princess come and take my hand!
Too many winters, too many seasons of pale death,
Have these eyes beheld, when they long just for joy.
The season hastens, when frost forms of the breath,
Blown on windowpanes, with such childlike employ.
And winter comes, as flowers die, clouds gathering,
To match the shadows upon my heart, so darksome!
I keep seeking light, and for love I must always sing,
Even if I am mad, I refuse to exist always lonesome…
Madder people than I have found of true happiness!
Why then, should I bow, unto conventional thinking?
I refuse to; my spirit is too beautiful for such distress.
Even in winter, the stars are on high, ever twinkling…
And they care not what people think of their warmth.
I will not grow cold for convention’s sake, or perish,
When I may become stronger, greater in my worth…
For the worth of a bright soul is like a granted wish:
It can succeed where others might falter into abysses.
There must be another like me out there, dreaming…
Of my face and form and the moistness of my kisses.
As I dream of her, as the stars shine down gleaming!
Published 15th Nov 2014
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15th Nov 2014 3:16am
Be yourself and be loved for being you. The joy of being alive have to be celebrated as long we are here:) Jessica.
Ah, dearest Grace! You've read my meanings in this poem precisely. That's what the message of this poem is all about - me being myself no matter what the world might think, and finding the joy in life and living even despite winter's impending gloominess and my sometimes lonely heart. But as you say, it is because I am me that I will be loved for who and what I am inside and out, and for love to exist one cannot do otherwise! And that is the general meaning here. I am glad you came by to comment, too, my dear... your words always bring much light with them. :D
