Upward Plea

So natural to sit,
staring up into impenetrable black,
until the first star screams,
allows it's unfiltered light
to flow freely through my dreams.

What jealousy,
what desire burns!
That I can see its light,
but it knows naught of mine.

I've met the learned astronomer,
and we spoke until the sun rose,
and even he could not help
but marvel at the birth of dawn.

And, as you well know,
the new day brings
another chance to finally shine,
and blind the dark
with brightness.

Then, and only then,
may we look at the night's first light,
listen to her cries,
and love her profound,
twinkling ignorance.