By the moon, tonight, she measures the height and length of her dream,
counting each star as a light that calms this child to sleep.
Imagine, a child, in the beginning of time, rocked by the same stars,
warmed by the same sun, her cheeks turning pink above bare feet.
Who are we to threaten the sleep of the innocent,
to threaten the amount of shine in a stars life?
*this poem is also featured here, number 20- http://350poems.blogspot.com/
