A Sense Of Self

Conversations with the stars

As I lie
beneath this onyx sky
I exchange tales of old
With the stars shining gold

They tell me of those long dead
Their dreams and their dread
And I tell them of those that I love
In the hope they'll recognise them from above

I have the thought to ask
About themselves, so they may bask
But they've long since forgotten
How they were begotten

So instead
I tell of the thoughts in my head
How they spiral and thunder
And threaten to drag me six feet under

At that they whisper and mutter
Over what I have just uttered
Murmuring to me not to fret
Saying that I'm not down and out just yet

I wave a lazy hand
As I drift into dreamland
They smile and tuck me in
With a blanket of space and the galaxies within

And when I wake I know they'll be gone
But not for very long
Only until the sun has slid away
And night comes to replace day

Then we shall resume
Our late night talks in moonlight gloom
Night after night we shall talk
Words weaving between a distance too far to walk

And one day I will lie beneath
And the stars will not gaze at me underneath
But another will take my place
And the stars will give my words a face

But for now I will lie
Gazing at the midnight sky
Sharing stories with the bright bright lights
That scatter and glorify this ebon night