Between The Stars And Me Poem by Sonny Rainshine

Today the opulent tiers of the huddling clouds,
gather like a pleated blind
to disconnect us from the radiance
of the sun. We will summon
no stars tonight, not even one.

It’s like those days when our mood
is overcast and an ephemeral haze
of disarray and separation
settles between our well-being
and our innocent, childlike
desire to see our surroundings
drenched in light and anticipation;
just one star tonight
is all we ask.

But clouds are diaphanous objects,
barely objects at all.
Like restless bedouins
they are born to shift about
and the wind is their sheik.

As I scan the firmament tonight
in search of a single intrepid star,
December may seize me and set up his tent
in my soul but I know he’ll soon
find it too crowded there,
and his visit will be brief—
too much light, too many stars there.