I saw a star fall the other night.
It must have slipped on that
black canvas of
galaxies.
I watched from my bedroom window
as the little star shook itself and
struggled to stand.
On wobbly legs
it stood.
It shone with silver light--
the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen--
but slivers of tears
slipped down its
silver face.
It raised its light to the black
unnoticing sky,
and screamed.
s c r e a m i n g to be noticed
to be saved
to be gathered up in the moon's arms
and to be held safe and sound
in the embrace of the sky.
On and on it screamed
the most heavenly, shattered thing in all of the sky and earth,
crying in hopelessness as
it realized that it was
grounded.
The screaming was beautiful too,
and its silver tears,
and its hopeless soul
as it wailed in an unbearable sorrow
that made my heart ache at the sound.
{For sometimes, the most beautiful things are the most broken}