How many many times
In so many words and ways
Have I heard it cannot be done.
Their numbers far too numerous,
Their glow too dim on occasion,
Their deaths skewing results.
But I’ve seen it done
In dreams of crisply cool nights
following lavender scented evenings
I gaze up into oblivion
And tally their numbers.
Impossible is but an impossibility
For if done once
Even in dream,
It can be done again.
I can do all I imagine
And I can count the stars.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love the concept and your way of expressing it!