Bright Star
A Poem
Bright Star,
I’m afraid you might
burn out
if you soar any higher.
I know it feels
like a drug up there.
We see you
and you shine,
but light brings shadow.
The atmosphere
at such a height is
thin and heady.
I know — it’s the possibilities,
incredible numbers,
but there is a truth.
There are things you can touch.
Some things are real,
some things are not questions,
some things enlighten.
Bright star,
there is a reason for real life,
whether or not we know it
or pretend to.
Maybe it’s sincerity.
Bright Star
I know you dream in color
and it’s tempting to live
up there among it all,
to look down on it all,
to lay reality at your feet.
To dream is beautiful,
but to live is better.
You cannot exist full time
in the nothing, and why
would you want to,
when there is
the something?
Bright star,
it will be messy.
Bright star,
you just may fall.
And the ground will
smear all over your hands,
and you’ll feel it
in your fingers,
and you’ll see it
stained on the surface
of your skin.
No one
can best you for truth
when you visit the dirt.
Bright Star,
please do not
make yourself a saint;
you’ll feel like nobody.
Do not make fact your ghost.
Sometimes be sober,
Bright Star,
this Earth, at least
you can prove.
