Picture: Starry Night Over The Rhone by Vincent Van Gogh
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Lonely star, shining bright,
Like a crystal formation,
Still, yet moving;
I don’t know your name,
And I don’t need to,
For I know you just as well
As one would by touch or smell.
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Lonely star, speaking
In riddles understood, as well
As one would understand
The true meaning of a song, with no voice, or words,
Symphonically encapsuled for convenience’s sake;
That
Is the sound you make
In the smoking embers of one’s breath,
Tinged with grief, unconsolable grief,
The type that one would cherish and heal
By mere listening.
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Lonely star, you listen
And glisten
In the silent evening of this day of our time.
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Herons