Look up my love

Look up, my love, and see where stars are falling
falling over antique Egypt and India,
falling over far Greece and ancient China,
stars like crystal tourmalines,
stars like poets fading dreams,
stars like fallen gods and angels in eternal descent,
stars like the falling petals of autumnal blossom
shaken loose from some great tree
to light the skies above you and me;
falling worlds of wonder that have passed millennia ago,
as fiery as the hearts of raging suns,
as cool and exquisite as winter's first new buds of snow,
falling stars like words of love I may not speak
for fear of Time's stern jealousy,
stars that write a heavenly message in sigils clear and true above Thee.

Look up, my love, and see where stars are falling
falling like the wisdom of serpents and doves,
falling like so much past and perished dust ignited by the atmosphere,
each star a dead and fallen world
with all its people's joys and fears turned into a torch above us,
a plea for understanding, a shout of triumph,
a brief moment of incandescence before it is plunged into eternal Night
beyond the sight of Angels and Men,
never to come again.

Look up, my love, into the splendid night
with its ever-shifting aurora of dreams;
lay your head upon my shoulder beneath the poplar tree,
above us Heaven's milky stream that flows from dusk to dawn
between oblivion's banks,
and if a word from our joined lips is torn
then let it be a word of thanks.