STARS
Pinpoints of iridescence,
stitched across the sky.
A symbol for a wish,
they tell the day good-bye.
(J. G., @ 1978)
I once dreamed that I was lying on my back on a high, grass-covered hill under a black sky bedazzled with stars. I reached my hands up, sure I could catch one…and I woke up. Years later, I had the dream again, but it was an unhappy time. In this version of the dream, the stars were so blurry, I didn’t even try to catch one. Years later, the dream made another visit, and I was so relieved to see my star-bedazzled sky again. I reached up…and caught a star.
I keep waiting for the dream to come again. Meanwhile, I keep reaching…trying to catch more stars.
Come to think of it, maybe this is why I surround myself with crescent moons and stars, and maybe this is why I like mountains…the better to be closer to the stars.
I was born and raised in Georgia, but relocated with my family to New York City. I love my southern roots, but I’m also crazy about New York. When I enrolled in New York University, I became a subway student, and learning became transcendent. Before class, during breaks, or after class, you can’t beat hanging out in Washington Square Park, walking up Fifth Avenue, or prowling around Greenwich Village.
In the song “Nothing but a Breeze”, John Denver states it well:
I want to live with my feet in Dixie
And my head in the cool blue north.