Hurt and Hope

The stars call upon my eyes and in them I find choice. They bid me gaze, they bid me hearken, and in their diary of days I espy pages a mind to darken. A friend taken from afar, another lost from next door, each one their own scar on flesh keeping sorrow's score. They bid me glance, they bid me stare, and in their distant dance I glimpse a future fair. A wife by my side, a drink in our glasses, on a porch my hands supplied as a sprightly storm passes. Do I stumble when the shadows come and stay down, picking at those scars? Or do I dream of joy yet unknown and stand, walking toward that porch? The stars call upon my choice and in that I find my eyes.