These years are speeding darkly
Since the epiphany. You don't get
A lot of those.
Last night
On the beach I laid back to watch
The shooting stars; some say
The heavenly stars. The Perseids
Burned indiscriminately,
I counted two.

I was starstruck watching
The four satelites,
In a pre-determined orbital,
That would burn as sure as
A ghetto.

Ogling the dark spaces;
Comforted, there's more stars
Out there for some other reason.
And wham. It happened , always unexpected.
It's not because something's not there;
It's because it never was, but for
Two meteors and four satelites.
I saw the light.

I love the sound of rain on a summer's night.
Coming down on the leaves, the lake, the cover of our tent.
Joined by the chirping of crickets and the croaking of bullfrogs...
No music is more soothing.
And being there with you is just bliss.

I can tell you're a bit disappointed.
This was going to be a magical night.
Our trip was planned months ago,
to catch the early-August meteor showers.
I was to see my first shooting star.
You were to show me where to look.
We would have spent the night gazing at the stars,
or at each other,
whichever.

But it's not meant to be.
The sky's permanently overcast and the rain refuses to relent.
The Perseids simply carry on their invisible trajectory,
without a care in the world.

''We're at the theater. The featured play is unfolding before us, meanwhile the curtain is left down.''

''And all the comedians are mimes?''

You laugh.

''This doesn't have to spoil our night. We can still have some fun.''

And we're off for a late skinny dip.

Getting down to the lake is the tricky part,
the rocky-muddy ***** steep and slick from the rain.

''It's so dark!''

I guess that's why we came here. To stargaze.
Thankfully, there's still a bit of moonlight reflected off the lake to guide us.
I avoid stumbling over the canoe and offer you a hand down the last step.
Before jumping into the water, I turn to look at your perfect naked body,
taking it all in.

Splash!
You're more cautious, dipping your toes to test the water before wading in.
The lake is warm.
You swim to me, careful not to kick too deep.
You don't like feeling the seaweed brush your ankles.
We embrace.
Instantly, I'm aroused by the slippery contact.
And that hunger in your eyes.

Love making is awkward at first, as we struggle to tread water.
Then we get the hang of it, and suddenly it's intense and overwhelming.
Fiercely passionate.
Deliciously tender.
A loon's soft call catches my ear.
Draws me back to the soundscape that surrounds us.
The drizzling of the rain,
the chirping of the crickets,
the croaking of the bullfrogs.
A lovely, ***** chorus.
To which we add our own excited gasps and moans of pleasure.

the sky lightens gradually
as if from nowhere, as if someone
in the sky is slowly rising,
blinking sleep from his eyes
and sitting lazily up onto his elbow,
casually ******* the brightness slider
on the universe as if he's done it
every day, he must have.
before the pink can hit it the checker
pattern of clouds fades away,
promising a casually clear blue
day but this one is more
personal now, his gift to me,
because on the concrete looking up
i can see the sun before it rises,
i know what it's like to wake
with the sun there on the other
side of the bed, to see her slowly
blinking the stars from her skies.
yawning, stretching, morning breath,
to see her rolling up her sleeves
and tying back her hair
and scattering her dreams of death
with a shake of her tired head.
and yet even before she is fully awake
she is so radiant.
the moon, shooting stars, even the perseids
step back to let her shine.
i feel as though when the sun
hides behind storms some days,
each day i will know why.

We are the stuff of stars,
left here to learn of love.
Learn of that
which was here before us.

To shed this cloak of flesh,
to look deep within two souls,
see the oneness
of the universe.

We are the stuff of dreams,
never to wake from sleep,
or know the mystery
of this life.

We are the stuff of stars,
that trail the night sky,
from dust we came,
and dust we leave behind.

*The Perseids /ˈpɜrsiːɨdz/ are a prolific meteor shower associated with the comet Swift-Tuttle. The Perseids are so-called because the point from which they appear to come, called the radiant, lies in the constellation Perseus. The name derives in part from the word Perseides, a term found in Greek mythology referring to the sons of Perseus.

I need you
Like I need
This next breath
This next heart beat,
In this moment
That you eclipse my mind
It's an imperfect world
Covered in darkness
Because I cannot see
What will be of me
Without you,
Because if this persists
This minute to minute
Absence of you
In my picture perfect dream,
Then I cannot
Will not
Take my next step
My next breath
Because I cannot
Will not
Continue like this
Without you,
Waiting for you
Like the next
Perseids
Just watching
The trailing showers
Knowing I won't
Live until its return...

APAD13 - 133 © okpoet

I look up at the stars


And I see you.

a roadtrip to somewhere,
just so we could watch a meteor shower.

we didn't even know exactly where to go,
only that we wanted to watch the shooting stars without the city's glow.

at first adrenaline filled our somber and tired selves;
we were all fueled with the idea of seeing something magical at twelve.

then came the rush of being lost in lonely, secluded roads.
suddenly we realized, this trip, to our parents we should've told.

whose is that car parked at the other side of the highway?
were they here even before we stopped to look at the meteors fall away?
should we flee or should we stay?
i don't want this to be our last day.

oh god please help us
we're running out of gas

and just as we are consumed with panic,
and fear of strangers in places, dark and exotic
we drive back to the city,
where the people are awake and much less creepy.

when the lamposts became brighter,
and the surroundings no longer sinister,
where the stars we so longed for became much hazier,
we simply laughed at our cowardice,
and at our overly-hightened suspiciousness.

as dull, yet terrifying the world can be,
even with rare astronomical phenomenas that are oh so sightly,
adventures are really, no less scary.
yet everything can still feel mesmerizing,
and even reassuring,
so long as you are able to find just the right company.

Icy clusters of rocks and dust, leftovers
Of extra matter scattered around a star.
Following the orbit guiding a perpetual run,
For seeing creatures to gaze at midnight skies
In search of glistening shooting lights.

Comets, so named by the ancient man,
Enchant humans to strive and understand,
Beholding their subliming approach to the Sun,
Where radiations and winds melt solids to sparkle
Spews of gas. An aura, a coma and a tail.

Nebulosity inclosing the nucleus confers
On the object a misty glow, distinguishing it
Form a star, hiding water in volatile form.
Tails extending to astronomical units lose
Trails of debris at times, visible to the naked eye.

When finally orbital highways cross,
Meteor showers arise. Debris igniting
As falling stars, enter the atmosphere.
Perseids in August begot by Swift-Tuttle
Comet, Orionids in October by Halley's.

Games of splendour to remind us where
We come from and how it all began.
When antediluvian comets did not shy away
From colliding unswervingly with Earth,
Reach its crust. Inundating the planet with H2O,

For us to be here, witness the show.

I was going up the hill
to watch the Perseids
with no dream in my heart
surprisingly
when i came back
i had out-wished
all the shooting stars

Stepping through into darkness
Street lights drowned out by solid silhouettes of trees
Distant stars brought closer
In awe of the dramatic beauty of the vast night sky
Feet still
Face upwards
Eyes drinking in the fullness of space
Blue light traces as shooting stars race
Vision made aware of bursts of incredible meteors
Moving through my universe
I would stay and drown for hours in the deep ocean of the stars
Glad to feel so small against something with no edge
Limitless mysterious infinity