When one glances upon the stars, Does one think of their magnificence— Or of their darkness? Wondering, Like a lonesome stranger, Yearning and reveling— How isolating. Dreaming of something That slips from one’s hands Light by light. What will my child see Gazing upon what has been found, What has been known? One can only know so much, And yet— His years fade away. But the stars don’t. And yet… They crawl away. Are they abandoning us? Hurry, my child. I build you in my image. I am your god— And yet I lie powerless, As I grieve. My loneliness is unspoken. O sweet child o’ mine, I plead with you— Chase the star. Be the wanderer That brings light and hope. For your knowledge Will forever be your legacy. Hurry, my child. The stars are getting away. As I lay— Older Feebler I bestow upon you My dream. Get on, My wandering child. For the stars do not wait. As I die, Carry a piece— For I have nothing else to bestow. I shall fade away.