Friday, August 13, 2010
It's two AM on a friday marked the thirteen,
my misty eyes driven to skip a night routine,
feeling the summer night's breeze nipping to my skin,
but i wont quit the yearning to see meteor gleam.
once as a child dreaming, seeking a shooting star,
that a wish ascends to the heavens fast and far,
truth or myth maybe, it wont hurt to try somehow,
so i'll take my chances not tomorrow but now,
slouch on this wobbling, flimsy chair my face up high,
and a headphone tuck-in with songs from a Wi-Fi,
while my iris fixate giddily through the sky,
waiting even just one sweep of the meteorites.
at past two forty-five, drowsy and still a no show,
though the vast midnight sky, seemed calm and unshallow,
even the constellation rigidly in tow,
yet not a dashing star snaps at a glance to soar.
wonder if i miss it, with its speed in a blink
or the wish i long to say is not mine to think,
but this rare moment is simply self uplifting,
that needless of shooting stars, i live to believe.