Listen!

Listen! If stars are lit in the darkness — doesn't it mean someone needs them? Doesn't it mean someone wants them to shine? Doesn't it mean someone calls these flecks of spit true pearls divine? And straining through blizzards of noonday dust, he bursts in to God, afraid he's too late — he weeps, kisses His sinewy hand, begs: "There must be a star!" swears: "I can't endure this starless torment!" Then he walks about anxious, yet outwardly calm. Says to someone: "So now you're alright? Not afraid anymore? Yeah?" Listen! If stars are lit in the darkness — doesn't it mean someone needs them? Doesn't it mean it's essential that every evening above the rooftops at least one star must burn bright?!