Tired starbirds come to rest
Upon the gentle rumbling chest
Of taller mountains than I know
Where youngling comets swirl and grow
To get a tail just long enough
That they may chase their wagging love
Out into the pointed black
And get them there and back.

Tired starbirds come to rest
And build their ship-like, hold-all nests
To fill with shining, diamond eggs
That bloom into a thousand threads
At the gentle, pulling touch
Of the moon who’s teased the clutch
To knit themselves two pairs of wings
So they may dive some planet’s rings.

Rested starbirds are then flung
Back out on tails of comet young,
Without direction, only need
To fly and flock and hunt and feed
And decide if they’ll return
To the same nest where they learned
Of loving home or they’ll go on,
See deeper stars and fly beyond.

Illustration by DALL-E in the style of William Blake.