Interview with a Shooting Star

When the night is filled with questions, and the sky is a jeweled blanket, I sit on the deck of my water room, listening to the waves flirt with stillness, and the breeze ~ caressing the green of palm leaves ~ in an island of romance, where the heart sings in sync with the music of nature. In all that quietness, I see a flying star, a flicker of golden sparks across the horizon, and I let my eyes rest , as I breathe unwritten questions... ~ O shooting star, must I wait another fortnight to catch a glimpse of your blazing bliss? You need not wait, my shadow stays with you, when the world grows cold and distant.. But am I the only one, healing and hurting, placing empty promises on your ephemeral essence? O beloved dreamer, you are not the only one. But in your thoughts, I hear an aching poem. How do you see, when the faces I knew, forgot to trace beyond softened smiles? I am just a meteoroid, leaving a streak of sizzling light ~ I am no wish-maker, but a fragment of divinity, a design of Almighty's grace. Ah, and in you I see my muse, prompting me to write. I wonder: why do I not see you in daylight, when the sun sits on its throne? To see me when all is dark is like hope sailing in a heaven-sent odyssey. Lord knows why your silence calls to me~ as if I were a sign of faith… They say you are anything but a star~ dust and rock, dancing through the air. Is that true, O glorious glow? I am everything a dreamer would dream of. For you, I will be your rhyme and metaphor, penned within purple pages~ a riddle the ones who do not feel can never truly comprehend… Thank you, perhaps , it is in your neon afterglow, I will thrive as the silhouette of a shooting star...