Flat on our backs,
Hoping to see
A falling star’s track.
The stars of our youth
So far, so high,
Rain down upon us
With scarcely a sigh.
And all of our hopes
And burning bright dreams,
Fall out of heaven
By God’s stern decree.
The stars that you fashioned
For each child you bore
Are fallen as well
And hanging no more.
So what have we learned
From heaven’s bright scene?
The brightest of diamonds
Are but pieces of dreams.
