Falling Stars

Laying here under this natural chandler. You and I laugh about the old times, as the stars twinkled in your eyes. With a small chuckle and a smile I begin to tell an old folktale.

“What if I told you that the stars above are the souls of those who dwell below?”

You look puzzled as once more you grazed at the heaven’s show, “Is that so? How do you know?”

I laugh as you glared, “Wisdom comes at age, child of mine. Why would I lie to you? But it is the truth, I swear to you. Everyday a child is born and gets add to the horde.”

“Horde? I guess that makes sense, but wouldn’t the heavens run out of space?”

I smiled sadly and pointed to a star that began to fall, “These fallen stars are the older ones whose time has come to an end.”

Teary eyed you replied, “Which star is mine?”

“The brightest one on your right, of course! You’re young and so full of life, your light will shine for a long while.”

Pleased by my answer you smiled and cuddled close, “Then where is your star?”

“My star is the one fading from the light, so to be a shooting star in the night.”

Your eyes widen as tears flowed, “How can this be? It can’t be!”

I smiled and pulled you close, “Don’t cry for it is natures game, we live, we die. But child mine a shooting star is not the end. Far from that, in death we give others one final wish.”

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