Last night I saw a shooting star,
Thinking it a wonder sent down from afar.
It streaked through the heavens in a great hurry,
Before being swallowed by darkness, a dying snow flurry.
I saw a shooting star with a glowing tail;
I wondered what it meant to make this delightful trail.
There was a kind of miracle about it touching my heart,
A wish into the future piercing me like a dart.
I gazed up upon the stars in the heavens,
As though I had never seen them before.
Countless stars illuminated the dark plate of night,
Everywhere stars winking at me like naughty sprites.
I saw the stars in the heavens as if from behind bars,
Everywhere I gazed summer showers of shooting stars,
Attempting to illuminate the darkened firmament,
Diamond dust on black velvet stirs heightened sentiment.
Yet every night they smile down upon us with benevolence,
Every night I pass by without taking note of their prevalence.
If the stars came out only once in a hundred years,
I would look up in awe through a veil of tears.
Immense distances between the stars and earth,
So vast that it becomes for us a subject of mirth.
If a shining star was out there looking this way,
Would it even to take notice, no one can truly say.
You may remember the stars have twinkling eyes,
That gaze through vast distances across coal black skies.
Perhaps it is enough to know that they shine every night,
Whether they see me or not is a question not a right.
You can be sure I will tread softly every night;
I will look to the skies for this companionable sight.
A comfort to know the stars are there on show,
To enter into their presence casts a mysterious glow.
and again, a very smoothly flowing rhythm with a lovely series of subtly visual associations appeared from the night darkness. It is good to notice that, distinguishing between a knowledge, systematic knowledge and wisdom, all the three are the outcome of darkness, the association for knowledge shows us a straight trajectory of an arrow sent to the target by a skilful archer, the second association (systematic knowledge) speaks of a hundred of successful shots in a row as the mastery's confirmation while the third one for wisdom intimates such an outstanding sharp-shooting which is produced from the bottom of an archer's heart and which resembles the mentioned here comet tail (termed 'magi'), embodiment of the transcendent state of John Herlihy’s mind, so deeply reflected in this poem. Cheers, alex
Your poem shows us how easily we fall back on ancient beliefs when it comes to the awe of a clear night sky. I know, because it catches me, too, sometimes even making me feel very insignificant. But my knowledge of science has conditioned me to feel more sanguine and understanding of what I am seeing in the night sky. The mysteries revealed make the skies less mysterious yet more comforting because I know that shooting stars are merely harmless meteors most of the time. However, a really bright one could possibly reach the earth and do great harm. I certainly wouldn't want to wish that on anyone!
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