I once loved a shooting star.

I loved the way it glides in the dark sky, mesmerizing everyone with its glow.

I loved the way it gazes you with its beauty, its subtle presence giving a sense of comfort for someone like me.

I loved the way it over shines the stars and the moon high above the sky, though only momentary,

For the shooting star has its destination.

And it is definitely not fated to land on earth.

In a dream, the shooting star flew over the starry night,

It flew to my face, seemingly curious about this little being that walks upon the Earth.

It started cuddling my face, acting coquettishly as if wanting to be held secure in the palm of my hand, not afraid of the unknown being that it is playing with.

The shooting star was within my grasp,

But, it was all just a dream.

An illusion that will shatter once dawn breaks.