Shooting star

As I sat in the darkening

Eve I watched a star shot

To the earth, an angel

Falling and burning up,

As angels do.

I waited for more, for a

Sound to boom from the

Streaking light, but heard

Silence, nor another, for

He rode alone.

I watched and wondered 

Whence angels go and why

They come, their heavenly

Attire lit bright, their

Otherworldly.

For dark nights need the

Burst of light and hope

Piercing through the gloom

Even it it requires some

Angelic fire.

In this moment I see that 

Men too need to light up as

They consume themselves on

Entry to the greater world

We know may be.

For this is the role of

The divine male, he also

Gives himself completely,

Without desire or fame,

That all might live.

He is the sacred, the

Warrior of old who tends

The world, who watches, 

On his horse, over the people

Sleeping below.

He is the god who would

Not be known, and perhaps

Seen briefly as he lights up

The night sky, burned up,

His gift given.