es anyone see me?
One solitary being in this crowded mass?
Does anyone notice me or even know that I exist?
Am I a product of a loving creator,
Or am I just a fragment spun from two colliding ancestors?
If I faded and died, would anyone notice my absence?
Would anyone remember that I ever existed?
Super stars surround me.
Some come and go with the seasons.
When they make their bright, brief appearances,
I hear the “ooh’s” and “aah’s” of the observers.
I wait breathlessly, hoping to hear recognition,
But each watcher’s gaze slides over me to another.
They never call my name.
Does anyone see ME?
Will anyone ever say
“Look, at that faint one,
very hard to see,
but always there,
always shining her best,
doing her part to light
that patch of darkness.”
It seems that no one will ever see me.
No one will ever notice that I keep my light on high,
No one will ever know that I make this dark gap bright.
YOU what?
YOU see ME?
YOU even know my name?
“He determines the number of the stars and and calls them each by name.” (Psalm 147:4 NIV)
Martha VanCise©
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