Tuesday, August 3, 2021

Dust . . .

. . . and gas

Meteors that come once a year;
Quite a show of fireworks 
When you’re there to see them.
Shooting stars fantastically glow.
All too soon no one can say
Where they are or gone to.

Back on earth we average reside.
Most of us will never know such adoration.
So I go my ordinary way.
Do my job and feed my kids;
This world and wonder.

Dust and gas -
That’s what they’re made of.
Why all the fascination?

Fabulous! They’ll take your breath away.
They will dazzle with their style 
And their savoir faire.
Improvise; they make their own moves.
All the cattle follow close 
Behind from the pasture.

Why couldn’t I be
One among those many millions?
Why can’t someone see
My astrological worth?
What causes the sea
Of heavenly bodies to glow like they do?
Shining so brightly for me and for you.
Sooner or later they burn themselves out
But oh so beautifully.

Meteors have nothing to fear.
From their distant firmament
They shine for the masses.
Safe above, removed from earthly life,
From uncertainty that lines the 
Cloth of our mortal existence.




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