Fish

He is as real to me as the stars and the moon. I speak to them Gaze into their bright Or dark faces. Ask the world To keep their splendor in sight Just a little while longer. Dream about the possibility Of flying so close Or maybe even a little beyond. Pray That they will never fall Or die Leaving me with an emptiness That can never be filled Or explained. I write and sing About the moon and the stars Just like I do about him. He is real. Just like the moon and the stars. But the honest to God truth is that; Just like the moon and the stars, I can't hear him I can't touch him I can't feel him. And he is always always there But I can't see him; Unless the light leaves And the clouds leave And the trees and cities shrink He's here, but he's not here. He sees me, but not really. He is real. But only as real As the distant loveliness That stalks the sky.