The Prodigal Son

You hold a star’s gift in your hand: a ball of lightA miracle of the cosmos, a wonder of the nightBut some despise and dread, they hunt and damn your sightYou defy and guard, you soar and blaze so brightYou find your kin along the way: the light-bearersThey bond and aid, they spark and cherish each otherThey shape and craft, they reveal and become a wonderLegends and Sages, they are the world’s changerYou hold a star’s gift in your hand: a ball of lightI smile with awe and joy: you are my lightBut I also weep with grief and ache: you are my plightFor I know one day you’ll soar beyond my reach: you are my flight.