“Falling Stars,” New Era, Aug. 1991, 25
Falling Stars
I sat on the porch,
chin in my hands,
my eyes straining
at the starlit heavens.
“What are you up to princess?”
I heard my father say.
He ruffled the hair
of my forehead.
“I’m watching for a falling star,”
came the answer in a yawn.
Though late, he stayed to watch,
His arm around my shoulders.
Soon we spotted,
in a breathless moment,
the dazzle of tumbling light
in the blue-black sky.
“That star really fell
a long, long time ago;
More years than you can count,
said Dad, now astronomer.
“And you’ve just seen it
this very night.”
He smiled softly
And put me in to bed.
I marveled at the thought,
all the distance,
light-years of space,
that stretched around me.
Sometimes, even now,
I feel that small
And cry out impatiently
at the darkness,
“Where is the light,
the tumbling dazzle
that follows the faithful,
the acts of goodness?”
And my Father answers softly,
“Just pause, little one.
Feel the distance
that stretches through eternity.”