Star

Star

I saw you on an altar
and remember why I dreamed
of emeralds and redwoods
shot through sand-filled eyes.

You were simple, gold-stitched and pure.
A farmer's cloth.
A band of pearls.

I stood with the anticipation of song
to be soaked by your fabric
and kept as your meaning.
Your memory.
Your birthright.

Your song
from mine.