We are the stuff of stars.
A star for each of us
hides in a starry sky.
There’s one,
shooting, blazing,
brilliant for an instant,
and then gone.
Whose star is that,
so bright.
Starchild.
Starbourne.
Stark night.
Remember, thankful
to have seen that light.
Martin Swords
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/starborn/
