I LUNGED TO GRASP YOU, MY SHOOTING STAR,
AS YOU RACED BRIGHTLY, STREAKING ACROSS THE DARK HEAVENS,
BUT YOUR LIGHT BLINDED ME, AND I MISSED,
AN ETERNAL CHANCE PERHAPS,

AND I AWAIT NOW,
LEGS STRADDLING EARTH, AND MOON,
HANDS OUTSTRETCHED, IN DESPERATION, ASIDE MARS, AND PLUTO,
AND I WATCH, AND WAIT, FOR YOUR RETURN, MY SHOOTING STAR.

I GLANCE BACKWARDS LONGINGLY OVER MY SHOULDER, AT YOUR DUST TRAIL,
REACH TO CARESS IT GENTLY, IMAGINING THE DUST AS YOUR FINE HAIR.
THE ROCKS, CRASHING AGAINST MY HAND,
TUMBLING TOWARDS EARTH.

THEY ARE YOUR WORDS, FALLING TO EARTH,
TO ENLIGHTEN US, WITH YOUR WISDOM,
TUMBLING STONES OF THE MIND, ROCK OF AGES,
THE HEAVENS SPEAK TO US, IF WE WOULD BUT LISTEN.

I PRAY THE UNIVERSE IS NOT INFINITE, BUT SOMEHOW HUGE, AND ROUND,
AND YOU WILL PASS THIS WAY AGAIN, SOMEDAY, MY SHOOTING STAR,
I FEEL NO WEARINESS IN MY TASK, HOPE ALONE IS MY SHROUD,
AS I SCAN THE HEAVENS RELENTLESSLY, DESPERATELY.

THE TELESCOPES OF EARTH, WONDER AT THESE TWO BRIGHT STARS,
BUT THEY ARE THE TEARS OF LOST TIME, GLISTENING, IN MY EYES,
I CANNOT MISS YOU AGAIN, MY SHOOTING STAR,
I WILL NOT MISS YOU NEXT TIME GASHLY, I PROMISE YOU THAT.