Life Without Stars

Life without Stars

Here I step and light into an Indian Summer night,
across the romantic Missouri farm of my distant youth and passage rite.

I gaze above and my subconscious awakes to a humble cast.
The stars prod me, I am not even a dot on a dot, and loneliness passed.

The twinkling bits scream to my ego and role,
yet whisper clearly to my heart and soul.

My eyes pitch and yaw from star to star,
a dot-to-dot transport thru the heavens afar.

Creation is not then a train of earthly debate and law,
rather returned to its berth, of wonder and awe.

Where are my trusty dippers so sure,
that bookmark my common place and cure?

Woe to us all as the star glow dims and worse,
that we wonder adrift in the vast of the universe.

Oh well, tonight the country is friendly and clear.
So for that I smile, thankful to be here, a place so dear.