Sown with Stardust

Beneath a vast sky,

Where sand meets sea,

The cosmic theater!

A meteor shower

Rained light

And we counted

Seventeen

Shooting

Stars.

Yet it is not the sky

Which memory honors

With awe and reverence,

But you, my memory

Of sharing the moment

With you, my memory

Of turning my gaze

To you, my memory,

The fateful forever of

A bittersweet harvest,

A field of mourning

Sown with stardust,

Grown to rot and riot.

Whether lost in the crowd

On a bustling thoroughfare

Or wandering…

Shadow-haunted paths—

Alone—

I gather shooting stars,

A burning recollection

Of what we used to be,

And who I can never become.

Just as I shield my eyes

From the brilliance of the sun,

I can only behold the glory

Of hope unrealized

From behind the shroud

Of memory—light-encrusted,

Sorrow-shorn—of my memory,

Fading like a falling star

In an infinite void.

But for memory,

Naught remains of you.