this star

This star, Our star, is only Hallow In the kiss that we bestow. And this kiss, only ours to give, Upon each brow, For we are like a child to the Ray, We forego eternity, our own device, That we may better know The Words to say. Each kiss returned, if I were Thee. Dust speck away, for Clarity. Broken tools, Such fools to use as we, For lining halls and walls, Of human history. For what is Faith but empty bucket. What is Life when some say -uck it! What are words or thoughts or dreams The End of which it sometimes seems, Come useless with their Broken Carriage Wheels To scatter quickly in the Wind, With Death upon their Heels. Yet., for one requited part, No faith supposed, nor scheme compare, Butterflies to Galaxies, Enjoined with loving Heart, To break the Bread of Life with Loving Air. A verse each Heart will know quite well, To break Morose this Poets’ Spell, Grow every Heart so Hopeful High, “ Tis Love upon which all Souls fly. “