Reaching at Stars

grasping blindly into the night
almost blinded by the bright streams
of light before me, beauteous and warm
but the stars fall between my fingertips
fading away into the black sky of my memory
and I fall from my pedestal
but again I am reaching to the heavens
and the rock I've been reaching from
maybe not as shiny as the stars,
is solid, and is just as beautiful
my support all throughout my quest
to which I could fall back on
and cling to with my life