Will You Catch Stardust?
Blades of grass, when did you cease to be my carpet,
soft and green, caressing my bare feet?
Rays of sunlight, when did you cease to be my warmth,
freckling my skin with ardent kisses?
Reckless wind, when did you cease to calm me,
brushing across my tear-drenched cheek?
Cricket voices, when did you cease to sing me to sleep,
with moonlit music suspended in the darkness?
Restless sea, when did you cease to cleanse my spirit,
flowing through my fingertips as I bathed in salty
Silver stars, when did you cease to light my way,
slicing through indigo nights while I danced?
Lost child, when did you cease to run with abandon
across grassy meadows, exposed to the sunlight, face
uplifted to gusts and gales?
Spirit of light, when did you cease to bathe in warm
tide pools, moonlight twisted in your hair?
Indigo dancer, will you remember the call of the night
music? Arms raised to the light, will you catch star
dust? Or will you miss the sparkling remnants falling
upon your pillow as you sleep?
© Copyright by Melissa Bachara