Night Sky

Written 2/20, edited 7/30


If the stars could speak, what would they tell us,
With their light that began so long ago, when
People wiser than we are first looked up at
The sky and asked from where they came?
If the eyes of my lover carry my reflection,
Can I gaze into the eyes of night like I gaze
Into yours, and catch a glimpse of the faces and
Upturned glances of other, ancient young men
Who first saw Orion with his belt, hunting through
The sky?

What secrets do they hold of me, these eyes,
Watching me those nights I spent atop the canyon's
And caverns where I finally discovered what it was
For which my soul ached, and what it was I wanted
To come into the walls of my heart, like the water
That carved those walls on which I stood,
Or the tendrils of galaxy that carved the heavens?
Stepping out of my tent in the middle of the night
To watch a shooting star that witnessed the moment
The first man told me he loved me?

Or were you watching as more words, other loves,
Were sent like your own light
Across vast distances to find me? 
Words, like shooting stars, bearing the weight
Of all those ancient, stolen glances, an entire
Universe of existential questioning,
Traveling across time and space
To carve deeper and deeper into me,
While I drank in your eyes and softly kissed
Your lips.