Night Lights
Waypoints for angels,
stars flower the night sky.
Ursa Major’s wagon pulls
our wishes to third heaaven.
Once I told my love
to search the stars at night,
meet me in the belt of Orion.
Without stars, no life
can exist in our galaxy.
Their ancient hearts continue
to burn in us, guiding us
like sailors over riptides,
rogue waves.
One lucky day, a shooting star
will spill the mystery of souls.
Helga Kidder lives in the Tennessee hills with her husband. Her poetry is inspired by her garden and surrounding woods. Her fifth collection of poetry, Learning Curve, is about immigration and assimilation. Her poems have recently been published in Orbis, Atlanta Review, and Quiet Diamonds, an anthology by Orchard Street Press.
Waypoints for angels,
stars flower the night sky.
Ursa Major’s wagon pulls
our wishes to third heaaven.
Once I told my love
to search the stars at night,
meet me in the belt of Orion.
Without stars, no life
can exist in our galaxy.
Their ancient hearts continue
to burn in us, guiding us
like sailors over riptides,
rogue waves.
One lucky day, a shooting star
will spill the mystery of souls.
Helga Kidder lives in the Tennessee hills with her husband. Her poetry is inspired by her garden and surrounding woods. Her fifth collection of poetry, Learning Curve, is about immigration and assimilation. Her poems have recently been published in Orbis, Atlanta Review, and Quiet Diamonds, an anthology by Orchard Street Press.
