Milky constellations studied for centuries by astronomers
Form a floating river separating two lovers
Every night they ponder
At which moment they could have started over
But not once does the daughter of the heavens
Repent on her escapade onto Earth
Nor the ox-herder regret his walk along the river
For never would their souls have stayed entwined for lifetimes otherwise
Was this eternal story of love always destined to end like this
But is this the end or merely a beginning
For if birds adorned in feathers of the night’s colors
Can be moved by their fathomless love
To craft a cosmic bridge on the seventh day of the seventh cycle of the moon
For a reunion that brings tears to clouds and smiles to the stars
Who is to say
That there won’t be a day
When that bridge will stay
Forever in the skies
Jul 1, 2019
Jul 1, 2019 at 6:06 AM UTC
Milky constellations studied for centuries by astronomers
Form a floating river separating two lovers
Every night they ponder
At which moment they could have started over
But not once does the daughter of the heavens
Repent on her escapade onto Earth
Nor the ox-herder regret his walk along the river
For never would their souls have stayed entwined for lifetimes otherwise
Was this eternal story of love always destined to end like this
But is this the end or merely a beginning
For if birds adorned in feathers of the night’s colors
Can be moved by their fathomless love
To craft a cosmic bridge on the seventh day of the seventh cycle of the moon
For a reunion that brings tears to clouds and smiles to the stars
Who is to say
That there won’t be a day
When that bridge will stay
Forever in the skies
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