Poetry: Faith

The night was dark and it was the first of its kind

that ever seemed long. Morning couldn't come

sooner and the lark that should greet the day,

but no one was home and all the guests were

gone. I was supposed to marry that day, but

I didn't quite make it to the vows and so the night

long, languorous, soaking and tired stretched

in the sky. I didn't think anything could be as

overwhelming as that sky. That night like

an unseen threshold buried under some

green moss in the mountain pass

only I could now see and I alone had to cross, let it all expand.

And they say the universe is expanding.

Perhaps it appeared larger that night because

I now felt smaller and overwhelmed. Did the sky

ever apologize to the stars when watching one's

archaic and gaseous frame flicker and fade out?

I owed no apologies that night except to my

bleeding heart trying to become a star in the sky,

nameless and faceless and collecting wishes

that would never come true. I gave up on wishing

that night and to the eternal sky I looked, a

whisper too weak for a neighbor to hear

mumbled from my lips just like the

stumbling I had grown accustomed to. But

I believed somehow that this prayer

could come true if I could expand like the sky.

The sun is hot and burns, overwhelming our skin

and our eyes, but the stars flicker in the darkness.

The multitude of stars flicker in the darkness.