This land holds me still
but the stars hold my chin up.
So many poems written about the stars,
trying to capture what it is that
entrances us so much, trying to capture
the divine beauty
that hovers over us at night, a dark heaven
adorned with jewels
the rich could never afford.
And yes, this is just another poem that could
never come close to describing the beauty
that few look up to see.
This is just another poem, a penny for your thoughts,
that is trying to show you what fierce...
(synonym for beauty) there is to look at.
This is just another poem without enough synonyms for
beauty, but that's okay.
Because the word is not important.
The cool night air tries to show you this as well.
That is why it blows and rustles your hair and the
baby hairs on your skin,and the tops of the trees,
so you'll look up and see...
see that life is good.
No,life is great.
Not even that.
But life is..alive with a force to be reckoned with.
It should be recognized, and appreciated.
And then once all this is done, we might start
to recognize this force.
Because it lives within us.
It always has.
And guess what?
It always will.