The Falling Star Poem by Josef Hammer

I took a star from the sky,
its light so bright, a lantern for the night,
and hung it on the door of the poor.

But the star, proud and high,
fell, shamed and silent,
to the ground.

Its light dimmed by the dark truth
of a life it never knew,
a home where shadows linger long,
where hunger gnaws and dreams fade.

In the star's fall,
I saw the chasm wide,
between the heights and the earth,
between those who soar
and those who struggle.

The star, in its fall,
learned the weight of human sorrow,
the pain of unseen lives.

It melted,
becoming one with the dust,
silent witness to the cries
of those, the light had never touched.

And I, standing there,
felt the burden of the sky,
the truth that light alone cannot bridge
the distance between hearts and homes.

For in the star's descent,
a lesson gleamed:
to understand the poor,
one must fall,
one must feel,
one must see.