Turning Point Poem by Benjamin Jansen

The rush is breathtaking
The moon has arisen
Lonely and quietly I sit by my lonesome
I look to the stars
Where do I begin
In earth, in a universe in a new world
I breathe the salty air
I become the awaking night
For one does not glance at heavens and not feel delight
For I will rot or I will ash
For I become a what we humans deam best
Fret not dear child
Fret not
For an oceans of becoming will put ye to rest
Some will come and some will go
But this of all things will endure
Fret not dear child
For you are loved
These of all things will be without doubt
For I will sit, become, and endure
Never will I ease to end the coming of stars
Breathe the freshest of air and know that life does not all show what is in store.