Meteor Shower

Directions: Press play. Then read while you listen. 


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My father's gentle hand
nudges me from my blanket hibernation
outside, the winter blackness
covers the mountains, as silent and sleepy
as my six-year old self

Half-dreaming, I stumble into a coat and a car
and when my father nudges me again,
we have stopped at a wide field
grassy hill sparkling faintly in the moonlight

The freezing night bites at my face when I jump
from the backseat
my sleepy whimpers are the only sounds
as we trudge up the grass
under the watchful silence of the dark

Then, my grandfather unrolls some thick blankets
hands me a thermos of hot chocolate
and tells me it will be any minute now

We all pile onto the blankets- flat on our backs,
my tiny shoulders wedged between the bulk
of my dad and grandpa-
for what feels like an hour,
silently staring up at the twinkling sky,
our breaths hanging above our heads
in frosty clouds,
waiting

Then, a thin streak of light at the corner of my vision
then another, above my forehead
another, to my left-
and the stars are awake
streaking across the blackness
flying to some unseen destination
their bright journey quicker
than my rapturous, darting eyes

We pass the thermos back and forth,
point at every streak of light,
trying to capture each one before it disappears
They tell me this won't happen again
for a thousand years
And so I make every wish I can think of 
marveling at the possibility
of them all coming true

After an hour, the light showers slow
and stop
leaving only the silent black curtain of the sky
now fringed with deep early morning blue
telling us the show is over
time to pack up our blankets
and stumble sleepily home

We will crawl back
into hibernation
just before the world wakes up,
rubbing the dreams we watched
streaking across the sky
from its eyes