Shooting stars are not meant to age,

to be sullied by humanity’s strange mortality

Shooting stars are not meant to stay too long,

to dawdle ‘round with our mundane occupations

Shooting stars are not meant to appease but to pleasure,

for that we feel more intensely

Shooting stars are meant to flare,

to blaze, to flame, to daze, to tame, to singe

Shooting stars are meant to brighten our moments with their fleeting presence

So how did it happen that we got you That we kept you, enjoyed you, loved you, treasured you That we irked you, displeased you, tired you, troubled you So how did it happen that you got us That you kept us, enjoyed us, loved us, treasured us That you irked us, displeased us, tired us, troubled us So how did it happen that the world got you That it kept you, enjoyed you, loved you, treasured you That it irked you That you displeased it That it tired you That you troubled it

Shooting stars are meant to be remembered for their stellar performance Shooting stars are meant to ignite,

to enflame, to spark, to sear, to melt, to blind

Shooting stars are not meant to twinkle but to glare,

for that we see more deeply

Shooting stars are not meant to go too quickly,

for who are we not to want more

Shooting stars are not meant to die,

to plummet to the frailties of mere mortals

No. shooting stars are not meant to die. So where is it that you happened to go (a tribute to all the stars in our lives)This poem was written by Mercy Angela Nantongo. Send an email to [email protected] to get in touch.