My Wishing Star

The silver moon winks at us As we dance into the field of dreams. The crickets provide the melody, The birds offer their song, And the voice of the wind guides our every step. You look to the sparkling sky Envisioning the wishes made on flawless stars: Wishes that have come true And wishes yet to come. Your radiant face is lost in a moment Like a perfect performance for an invisible audience Not wanting to be seen. Not wanting to change. I gaze into your luminescent spheres of sight, Gateways into your mind, And see your dreams of a future beyond this moment: Being draped in white, Cleaning a floor cluttered with toys, And intertwining your wrinkled hands with another’s. Dreams that are the soul of your wishes. Dreams that you share with the stars. I lace my not yet wrinkled fingers into yours And say, “It’s okay, my wishing star.” We continue our dance under the cool night’s sky. The mystical moonlight is our spot light The moment; our stage A stage longing for eternity, But broken by time. The necessary change for our dance’s next performance.