From between the tree boughs


Twinkle, little star, twinkle

Ensconced in tender darkness,

Sit like truth, perfection unattainable,

Studded in the crown of constellations.

Through veiny boughs you come and go,

Like a beating heart— nothing, something, then altogether,

For a moment not caught even by a blink

You splay glory like an archaic crop-duster,

Experienced but a youthful glow

That splatters the ground unnoticed,

But for a fool on a park bench.


How I wonder what you are?

Through ascending branches do I see

A beacon of future or

The flickering harbinger of hope

Or a dreamer’s dream,

Pinning blindly the tail of desires

For certitude and assurance on an arbitrary glow?

Do you embody a swan song

That me to my destiny pulls

Or do you taunt with knowledge in celestial tune

I try but never hear?


Up above the world so high,

Vaunted stature, beauty personified.

Your siblings grow far into the good night

But you, stationary and stenciled remain

Between the curving pencils of arms 2 and 3,

Company for the knight who rests his arms

Under the tar-pit of the night.

I yearn to speak with thee

That who was, is and will be

Whence my footsteps have taken leave.

To talk of that which shall be

And allay fears of uncertainty.


Like a diamond in the sky….




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