CELESTIAL SOUVENIR

I flew too close
to the sun with wings
carved of cold wax
and fell head first
into the moving
grey mists of
ancient stories told
again and again
as Time circles
and swirls in and out
weaving my new wings
of gossamer ambitions
To soar on songs
Cedar smoke and drumbeats
into the clear
constellations of
phosphorescent legends
My scarred hands clutch
gleamings bits of stars
To hold these gifts
I must share words
stolen from their
Stellar Guardians.