The Boy With The Star

Out of the bad comes good

And out of the good comes bad

And out of every happy moment

May come a little sad

And every time the sun shines

There blows a little breeze

And with the spring and a little rain

Is the coming of the leaves

And out of every winter

There comes a little snow

But when I look up, I cannot see

From where it is that this wind blows

Across the lake, there is an island

Deserted and so cold

But I went there once a upon a time

In a dream that was so bold

And on that little island

I met a child with a star

He handed it over with such delight

In hopes of it traveling far

 I asked him, “where do you come from?”

And he looked at me and laughed

He said, “with all the trees, and the birds, and the bees,

Our destinies are never mapped.”

And as I sat and pondered, while he sat and stared

It came to me, that in this dream

Finding such a star was rare

So I put it in my pocket

And sailed as far as I could flee

But when I reached the edge of the lake

There was nothing there to see

The cities were burned to ashes

And the sky was filled with soot

When I looked back behind me

There were fires ablaze with each step I took

It started to get dark and cold

I couldn’t see a thing

I put my hands deep in my pockets

And felt a little sting

Only then did I remember

When the world was burning down

That I was given a gift of light

To burn through the darkness that surrounds

And as I tossed the star as high as I could

I suddenly jolted awake

I could hear you breath, see that you were with me

And that if we were cartographers together,

our maps would build forever