"I love the stars...", He said.
We were looking up.
"So many things to wonder about."

"I used to think that way.", I answered.
"Now they seem so fake. Like they aren't really there, at all."

My answer puzzled him. We walked into
the building, with the A/C blasting my hair about
my shoulders.

"Don't the stars want to make you praise the Lord?", he asked.

"They make me feel like a butterfly," I said, "trapped in a jar.
I want what's behind them."

We entered class and he sat across the room, regarding me from a
safe distance.

Even the best prison can be guilded to sparkle like the Sun. You are there,
beyond the Veil, holding love in your pockets. How I wish You would set us free.

10/12/2008

Author's Note: Based on a conversation I had with someone on my way into church, this past summer.

Posted on 10/12/2008
Copyright © 2025 Maria Kintner