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Broken Stars
Broken stars have a self-sustaining light
Like rays of a breaking dawn
Thin flecks leave a streak behind
In the world of their birth.
You can't rest at all
When they haunt your world,
The godfather who lay waste
Their youthful lives conscoius
At dusk of dusty loam and dried blood'
Pieces trickle from pockets of your mind.
Draw from the fluttering flecks
Their now immortal life
That you may feel their rhythm,
Voices vibrant with violets;
Look into the dawn -
The ring of gold.How beautiful!
Dear Milton This is a beautiful sensitive poem. I see the dying and resurrection of each day in it ... also the hope and encouragement which is bestowed on mankind: an act of grace. I love your work. Myra