#northstar - Hello Poetry

it was dark and tender my dad next to me I was five so free at the driveway we be at some point of the night we looked upon the sky I don't know why we looked at the north I saw a star so bright with the colour of light I looked him in the eyes and said “that's…grandpa” flying so high he said “no” that's the northern star it will always be the brightest of them all it's there when you seek a guide to peek when you've traveled so far where no one can fish when you wonder ‘Is this… ?’ or ‘What if…?’’ remember the star that's it

0

Aug 10, 2025

Aug 10, 2025 at 3:35 AM UTC

CantSeeMe

I remember

it was dark and tender my dad next to me I was five so free at the driveway we be at some point of the night we looked upon the sky I don't know why we looked at the north I saw a star so bright with the colour of light I looked him in the eyes and said “that's…grandpa” flying so high he said “no” that's the northern star it will always be the brightest of them all it's there when you seek a guide to peek when you've traveled so far where no one can fish when you wonder ‘Is this… ?’ or ‘What if…?’’ remember the star that's it

31

There once was a little starling Who was born on the milky way Surrounded by others just like her In the constellations where they had played One fateful night she fell out of orbit Floating farther and further away Surrounded by the darkest of galaxies Wondering why she couldn’t have stayed There were days she lost a little more stardust Trailing behind her like a shooting star Falling into the biggest black hole She was scared of losing more of her parts Surrounded by the empty darkness She lit the darkest corner of the universe Though she was unable to see her own light Because too often she cared for others first She came back to us as a 4 pointed star Losing one of them on her journey home Every night we formed a cluster of stars To remind her that she was never alone If only she knew she was a starseed In the darkest moments is where she grows For she became our brightest north star Who always brought us home with hope

0

Oct 5, 2021

Oct 5, 2021 at 5:53 PM UTC

celestinus_eclipse

Starseed

There once was a little starling Who was born on the milky way Surrounded by others just like her In the constellations where they had played One fateful night she fell out of orbit Floating farther and further away Surrounded by the darkest of galaxies Wondering why she couldn’t have stayed There were days she lost a little more stardust Trailing behind her like a shooting star Falling into the biggest black hole She was scared of losing more of her parts Surrounded by the empty darkness She lit the darkest corner of the universe Though she was unable to see her own light Because too often she cared for others first She came back to us as a 4 pointed star Losing one of them on her journey home Every night we formed a cluster of stars To remind her that she was never alone If only she knew she was a starseed In the darkest moments is where she grows For she became our brightest north star Who always brought us home with hope

24

I am not the Sun or the Moon, but rather the North Star that offers a glimpse of light when the sky is dark. Long enough until the Sun comes back around for a bright, new day.

0

Dec 18, 2015

Dec 18, 2015 at 12:52 PM UTC

chelsea-doyal

Polaris

I am not the Sun or the Moon, but rather the North Star that offers a glimpse of light when the sky is dark. Long enough until the Sun comes back around for a bright, new day.

7

My heartbeat pulses like the north star in my lower lip: I am, I am, I am. My hair is humid; it curls like smoke. I toss Petoskey stones back to Lake Michigan where they’ll be safe from souvenir shops, at least until they land on shore again. I suppose dreams are like that, washing up again and again on our eyes shoreline.

0

Jun 24, 2015

Jun 24, 2015 at 9:26 AM UTC

daniellefavorite

Second star to the right

My heartbeat pulses like the north star in my lower lip: I am, I am, I am. My hair is humid; it curls like smoke. I toss Petoskey stones back to Lake Michigan where they’ll be safe from souvenir shops, at least until they land on shore again. I suppose dreams are like that, washing up again and again on our eyes shoreline.

14