Wishing on stars isn’t something we leave to childhood. It’s a magic we carry with us that reminds us that innocence isn’t lost as we grow.
Isn’t it amazing,
how small we sometimes feel
when standing beneath
the vast canvas of night sky
dotted with the silver light
of a million twinkling stars?
And yet, my child, when I look at you,
I’m filled with that same wonder.
The same wonder I’ve always felt,
when my gaze first beholds
the golden glow of the sun’s first rays,
or the pale glow of the winter-white moon.
Marveling, that something so mysterious
and seemingly untouchable,
could fill me so completely,
touch me so deeply,
and remind me so eloquently,
of the magic that lives inside us all.
JN Fenwick (© 2022) | mothjournal14