The lines on my palm map
out uncharted constellations.
A future written just for me
and those crossing my path.

Roads of our journey held close.
Run parallel and near enough
to reach out to you. And touch.
A sense we can’t keep –

forever but as all senses fade
we build on our memory –
that is mine. You don’t get it
back when you leave.

Swans dance between my fingers
and a dragon’s tail crosses the
old story of vanity and child,
watched by hunted bears.

Lay down, eyes fly upwards
where the twins dance and
fish are free to swim high
in the field among heroes

I waited to hold your hand
and when you let go of me
to jump the tracks and run
I sat still, empty handed…

except for the stars we had
drawn there, marked in my
hold. They mostly hide, out
of sight, but I still feel them.

Originally written for World Poetry Day 2012 under the theme ‘Stars’.


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