a star shouts across the universe
for ten billion years and is extinguished.
on the next day, the star appears in my sky
for the first time. happy birthday star! it shines
like something that will not know it has died
for ten billion years. for ten billion years,
death will be chasing it at the speed of light,
it will only whisper in the sky.
and just like this ignorant new light, i think i
am an ancient star, alive and shouting.
are we both wrong? i don’t remember being
born. one day, i appeared on this side of the universe.
maybe i was extinguished long ago and
what i am now is an echo being chased by death.
maybe like that ancient star, i appear over and
over again throughout the universe, living an existence
that seems loud and fresh to me, always thinking
i am like a star on fire with life,
but always an echo, always a whisperer.
Philip Jason is a writer from NY. His poetry can be found in magazines such as Spillway, Lake Effect, Hawaii Pacific Review, The Indianapolis Review, Summerset Review, and Canary. His first collection of poetry, “I Don’t Understand Why It’s Crazy to Hear the Beautiful Songs of Nonexistent Birds”, is forthcoming from Fernwood Press.