When I was a boy I searched the skies <br />For the truth, a star, and the worldly wise, <br />But ever the path of the brightest lay <br />On my neighbour’s roof, or another’s way. <br /> <br />So I chose a star and I called it ‘Dawn’ <br />As the brightest light in a summer storm <br />And I charged it: ‘Lay out my future way <br />As bright as the path you trace today.’ <br /> <br />But when I was older, learned and wise <br />I left the star in the drifting skies <br />And never a thought of the star was lent <br />While the truth, the star, and my faith was spent. <br /> <br />And when I was down, and worn, and thin, <br />I got to think what I might have been <br />And searched for the star in the drifting skies <br />And cried its name at the pale sunrise. <br /> <br />I’ve scanned and searched for a single star <br />Since the way of the world was far too far, <br />But all I get are the skies alight <br />Or a deep despair on a cloudy night! <br /> <br />5 July 1975<br /><br />David Lewis Paget<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-star-3/
