The Star Watcher

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She crawled inside the night to wait

as the sun sunk low, all of her warm

colors followed her down to the sea.

Like music, she heard them go – sun

and her bright yellows and reds – drums,

full orchestra as she bowed her head.

The oranges, peaches, and pinks

danced across the stage, violins echoed

their softer song, and then dropped

with the wind. Only piano remained,

clear and blue, and indigo inked the sky

as day let go – and silence.

 

And, for so many nights, this is when

the stars would come. The keeper would

release them, one by one. He’d watch her eyes

as stars transformed the blue, and the blue

of her eyes drew the stars inside. And in her sky

he’d draw magical things, and that is what

her heart was made of. But one night, the keeper

never came, and stars began to disappear.

Others claimed to see them still, but her sky was dark.

Deep inside her the magic never returned –

a heart without a keeper, a sky without the stars

The Star Keeper

He keeps stars in his pockets and smiles through his days.

She walks in her sun, awaiting the night.  It used be that nights

crawled on her, crushed her, spun her to the ground.

But now the star keeper rises with the moon, hangs his stars

one by one across the night sky, just for her.

Half a world away, she watches her beloved sun paint the sky

before disappearing, with colors so deep and lovely, she can

feel them until tomorrow.  Then, closing her eyes, she thinks of

her star keeper and his pockets full of stars.  He is remembering her,

losing her sun to the sea.  A star appears in her lonely sky.

And another.  and another.  And soon her sky is full,

the starkeeper’s painting of night – peaceful, humble, gentle light.

Quietly, she sleeps under his canvas of stars, and he rests.

Stars don’t need words.

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