The Night the North Star Fell From the Sky by Leigh-Anne Burley

Born in obscurity
stuffed into creases within shadows
stamped the wrong way up
molding in dark corners
encased in a glass prison.

Anchor hoisted
my mind drifting 
upon turbulent waters.
Stacked maizes
toppling over
sense of place and time.

Stripped of dignity
a ragged wasteland wanderer
I imagined other worlds.
Worlds within worlds
places within places.
Rest stops being a
fairytale princess
prima ballerina
 superheroine
a lion.

Silenced stilled child
curled in the dark
feeling a pinprick of light
at the end of a long corridor.

Gentle, strong arms cradle 
the lost child into the Son
swept up to a present place
transplanted into the kingdom of I Am
where endless goodness reigns.