Stars Like Flowers

                     Act 1

In this, my portend wayward hours,
when stillness soon take root,
will fasten in beleaguered mind
and soon to bear dark fruit.

    "Play on! Play on!
Encore, Encore.
Too soon the curtains close,
I've not yet chanced the empty halls
where might my children grow.
Not danced among the lovey trees
and carved on such, my name.
Nor sung the tune that beats my heart
but needless of the fame."

What word is this that leaves me dumb
and flirts my waiting tongue?
It leaves me quiet as the grave
where mothers weep for babes.

If not for pen and thirsty page,
to which I feed it calm,
I could not say of what I feel
at this when time is gone.

   "Oh Lord, what game do you create
to see the Lily bloom,
if just to send it wilting low
and cower in its doom?
Have not we gained your confidence,
in this, our sacrifice,
to play your game of charlatans
as recumbent men and mice?"

Have I still time, then words as well,
to vex your welcome gate,
not still, I go, but remain in fight
the buzzards too shall wait.

Each breath be mine until the last
not robbed of that, will I.
My lips may move to only gasps,
on pages I shall cry:

     "Play on! Play on!
I am yet lost, my pen
my mighty sword.
Encore! Encore!
Not curtains yet.
With you, at odds,
My Lord.

(Fade to white)

                     Act 2

What light is this that finds me chilled
  and thaws my frozen veins?
    What moves this brittle skeleton
      upwards with hidden strings?

      Such luminance as cresting beams
    of sun that pierces sky,
  and fills my former wistful eyes
with verve revivified.

Enraptured awe of marvels thrust
  into mine waking mind.
    To stand amid infinity,
      before me, all of time.
        If I reach out, I'd touch a star,
          no, single point of light.
            I realize no eyes were built
             to witness such a sight.

           Intrigued by curiosity,
         I reach to touch the flare.
      Upon such fragile trifle touch
  the light BURSTS everywhere...

What fool am I, it was no star
   that I mistook at first.
      My feeble mind could not conceive...
         the birth, of universe.

    "Oh Lord my Lord, what is this place
which I have come to view,
that contravenes what I have known
and threatens eyes with dew?
What name, in dreams, is called this place
where stars, like flowers, bloom?
Where warmth of sun and starlight arms
cradle like a womb?"

Is this where man, in final rest,
  comes to lay his head?
    Father I remember,
       twas dying in my bed.
        No fear, no pain, no body felt,
      free at last to roam,
   but why at all did I feel fear
 when I only travel home?
And THUS, reborn, a fiery soul,
 a flicker in nebulae,
   and now in heavens, see mine eyes,
      they twinkle down on thee.