Where Do Falling Stars Come From ?
A poem about letting go …
There they were, just sitting on a bench
A old fashion bottle and an old rolled up rug
with an ornate scroll, written in French
which said “mets ton problème dans la bouteille”.
Into that old bottle …
I stuffed a lifetime of hurt and pain
Years of sadness and shame
Filled it full … with broken promises and forgotten dreams.
In a blink … the air began to shift
That old rug rolled out, right before my eyes
Suddenly, the mysterious bottle and I … set adrift
We were sailing, flying high into the night skies
Thunder, a loud crack … the wind whirled
That old rug carrying us … all around the world
New York, Scotland and Bombay …
Stopping in Rome along the way
Higher and higher looking down on the Earth
I cried with delight and danced with mirth
The bottle spun and popped it’s cork
A million stars began falling out.
Wounds and pain …
Twinkling … like snow on a moonlit night
Tumbling down, back to earth again …
Hey, Look up, way up far
Make a wish …
It’s a shooting star.
