Story of the Stars
I was caught on a sleepless night,
With nightmares on the fold,
And so went out to the gardens,
Where the stars, a story told.
They took pity on my fright,
And so began to tell their story,
A fanciful artwork,
Of pain and fear and glory.
“Why would I wish to hear of pain,
When my horrors are still new?”
They simply laughed and said:
“Worry naught, there is love here too.”
Their voices blurred together,
Upon this starlit lullaby,
They told of all their seeing,
From way up in the sky.
They whispered secret knowings,
Of truth and lies yet found,
And chanted softly,
Of how the world spun 'round and 'round.
They spoke of war and famine,
They sang of joy and mirth
They shared their mourning of all the deaths,
And rejoiced with all the births.
I settled down beneath the sky,
And let the stars sing me to sleep,
I knew beneath their watchful gaze,
My dreams would properly keep.
And when I woke, I was full of knowledge,
The language of the stars,
That granted me an open window,
That to most held only bars.
And so every night I sank to sleep,
Listening to them sing,
Oh, how I wished I could thank them,
For the peace they seemed to bring.