A star,

Warm light in the cold black,

Where are you

I wonder.

When i was a child

I stargazed–watched

The milky way

With bright eyes

And picked out

The dippers,

And always wondered

If space as was cold

As it looked.

I wanted to be an

Astronaut;

To swim among

The stars,
To fly and fly and

Fly into the unknown,

Touch that beautiful

Light,

Illuminating my way.

I wanted to hold it,

Bury it deep within my chest

So i could have that

Warmth for myself.

Could hold something special,

Something beautiful,

And call it ‘mine’.

An astronaut, is what I

Wanted to be,

To sail the stars and search

For those far from home;

I’ve never felt home, really,

And sometimes I wonder

If stars have either.
I will bring it to them, then.

Space is not cold, love,

With the warmth of

Burning stars