It's about to start, our ritual of nightly
The moon is out but hidden so slightly
The diamonds blink in on schedule brightly
My brother and I wait there politely
With a focused vision one so tightly
Once a joke, now not taken so lightly
Panic at this thought of being a flea
Our place in the universe so comfortably
Objects transit the black sky every night
Sometimes they dart left, sometimes they dart right
Or across the sky they streak there and here
Or just blast up and out of our atmosphere
Ninety degree turns may be the case
Or catch two of them giving each other chase
I could shout at the sky as I feel I should
Such a small voice it does no good
Frustrated with my infinitesimal size
They make a play for our universal prize
Seeding a hybrid that looks like a friend
So I'll be back tomorrow to watch them again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Amazing nights. Wonderful poem.