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Blanket of Stars
I find solace in you
When tiredness consumes me,
I rest my head in your darkness
And find comfort in the warmth of your light.
You sleep soundly in your quilt
Of thick black clouds, like smoke,
Guiding-light stars frame you,
Eyes closed in bliss.
A single spot of crisp, clean paper
Where the spilled India ink
Of impenetrable dark
Failed to cover.
Though hidden, I see you,
In brisk morning air,
Faintly resting on the horizon
Of cotton fields.
Your blanket of stars is vast
And has no end,
But is transparent enough
To spy you through.
Celestial glow cannot be dimmed,
Not on the cloudiest nights
That fall into clearest mornings,
You cannot dissolve completely.
Copyright ©
Han Marlowe Turner
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