Godlover -- following the falling star,
its hurtling through celestial night to earth,
fading in valley’s ebony void far
below his mountain perch -- thought of life’s worth,
of birth and death. He swore he heard her voice
calling to him as it fell, as if she
stood just in sight, called of their constant choice
to seek each other among ancient trees.
But she was far away tonight, asleep
in her dwindling village. Why did she flow
through his mind so? Why did her image keep
appearing like a dream? He’d like to know
if he was falling in love. But no one
to ask. His parents, his tribe, all were gone.
He studied the stars. Thought of life alone.
Roger Armbrust
November 13, 2015
