I'll never forget that night we gazed at the stars.
The wishes I held, I remember.
The desires of my heart ran deep.

I prayed for a shooting star.
Just one, please come.
Show us both that this love was meant to be.

It never came.
And as peaceful as it was looking up at those stars,
We both held the silent fear that it wasn't suppose to be.

Yet we laughed; we talked.
And we kept on searching for that shooting star.
That flicker of hope shining vibrant in the sky that our love was true.

The mistake you made, was you kept looking at the sky.
You, like all the rest, think shooting stars happen in galaxies.
You, like all the rest, didn't find the deeper meaning to a shooting star.

Perhaps a shooting star was never meant to shoot across the sky,
But instead stay a little longer as the little things of beauty  in the world we know.
Our shooting star was our love;
It went by so fast,
But bore a radiant beauty so rare it only happens once in a life time.