The crisp air meets her lungs,
filling her with fresh cold wintry night air.
Dazed by the luminescent paths of s t a r l i g h t, she lays there on the ground,
not moving.
Patiently,
she waits for the irregularity. Hoping to witness one more,
almost insignificant,
flying star.
The nocturnal-ness of her being slowly fails every second. She struggles to keep her eyes open, but fails, miserably.
Just as she closes her eyes, she witnesses a truly remarkable path. It shined like the northern lights, but with more elegance and subtle-ness than ever before, as if it was
just for her.
With her eyes beckoning her unconsciousness,
she drifts asleep.
True peace welcomes her, and receives her.
For the need for worry ends,
she is asleep with
true peace.
YOU ARE READING
Flying Stars
PoetryWaiting, she hopes to see something truly remarkable, just once more. This is a short story/poem.
