I was walking by the stars one night gazing down at the Earth,
it's blues and greens so far from me.
My companion was quiet,
I didn't know his name.
I didn't know our destination,
He smiled as we walked.
"Have you ever counted them?" He asked without removing his gaze from the North,
Laughing I replied: "You must be mad. They number more than anyone could count."
He turned his gaze to mine and said with a sigh: "So I once thought."
We walked in silence, me pondering his words,
Him back to gazing North with that smile on his face.
Walking for a lifetime, without worries or wonders,
Thinking on his challenge, not understanding him yet.
Finally, it seemed, although probably only a minute,
He stopped and took my hand.
"They only really number the one's you are missing,
The brightest being your foe.
I ask you to forget the star that is blinding,
Allow it guide you, it's one of life's twist.
Home is not far, if you follow your heart,
We count because we realise a simple truth:
Yes they are the ones we are missing,
But there are many left, we simply need to find."
I'm not sure if this is classed as a story or a poem. If you could enlighten me, I'd appreciate it. Just sat at my desk this afternoon and started to write. Be it good bad, it flowed nicely as I typed. Apologies for bad form.
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