In a whirlpool in the heavens, between earth and between sky
a bit of your stardust lingered with mine
before the beginning of time, of love, and of life.
On a starlit path from space to earth below,
from spirit to child to slightly-less-child,
I spotted you—stardust dancing in my soul.
But you’re on the verge of leaving now, no-longer-stardust-child,
and I don’t think you remember me.
That’s alright;
I’ll just catch you on the next go around.
I watch you leave, glitter in your eyes.
I dare not wish your elsewhere-hope dies—
it’s far too dear to you,
no longer stardust, never once mine.
It’s okay, I never did mind.
I’ll catch you next time,
on the next go around, the next earth, the next life.
And so I grew old without you and died
and my soul waited patiently life after life.
To the universe with two moons, no earth, a purple sun,
I’m convinced that I’d know you in each and every one.
And if you don’t recognize me, don’t let it get you down.
Don’t pity me;
I’ll be sure to catch you on the next go around.
