Diana Morales Poet Ekphrasis

My Starry Night is Sleepless

(Dedication to Starry Night by Van Gogh, 1889)

Sometimes I find it difficult 
to express myself to others. 
I've grown accustomed to silence,
with my thoughts racing 
lying down at night,
I look at myself and say,

"Who am I to this world?"

Turbulent skies and clouds
with no destination spends
hours awake through the nights
waiting for the dawn as the stars
hide behind its shapeless 
soul, then I say,

"Who are you to this world?"

The stars tremble as they hear 
the winds in motion, its voice
culminates them causing its simple
nature to shine past the dark void,
as the night draws a path straight
to my empty room,
strong is the light but delicate 
are the shoulders that bear 
the ungrateful for their daily indifference.
I sail between them to receive
and to endure their hardships,

I ask, "Where are you going?”

I drop an anchor in the center
where the voices of many reach
that don't go beyond a sigh 
and I wait, clinging to their hopes. 
Perhaps you will see me
the closer I climb to you, 
and at last be able to sleep
alongside the forever
hope filled bones and stones.

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