Dreaming of Stars

I remember the stars.

I remember the stars as they were in my childhood.

I remember the stars shining bright in the moonlight,

twinkling on the midnight sky,

as soft as baby’s breath,

and always there…

always there, taking me out of the dark pits

into the light of the open skies.

And the stars were pretty stars and round.

I dreamed of flying.

I dreamed of one day, somehow,

if I could ever fly as high

and reach the stars in the sky.

It would be a dream come true,

nothing less.

Clouds hiding from the moon.

Drawing themselves in as I approached.

The faster I ran,

I knew I will be getting near.

I ran far.

Eyes far back, looking back,

the night sky.

I was amazed at how much it moved.

There looked like dragons on the hilltops,

in the mountains. – Dragons I would never meet.

But there were sparkles,

sparkles over the blue.

How beautiful were the stars?

I want to be an astronaut.

I want to fly across the sky.

I want to reach the stars and touch them.

I want to gasp and see the whole world.

I want to be an artist and paint the world.

I want to go to the moon,

and if I cannot I must

hope that the moon

will come and take me up.

For up above the clouds the air is smooth

and it feels like heaven is so close.