Go and Catch a Falling Star By John Donne

Go and catch a falling star, Get with child a mandrake root, Tell me where all past years are, Or who cleft the devil's foot, Teach me to hear mermaids singing, Or to keep off envy's stinging, And find What wind Serves to advance an honest mind. If thou be'st born to strange sights, Things invisible to see, Ride ten thousand days and nights, Till age snow white hairs on thee, Thou, when thou return'st, wilt tell me, All strange wonders that befell thee, And swear, No where Lives a woman true, and fair. If thou find'st one, let me know, Such a pilgrimage were sweet; Yet do not, I would not go, Though at next door we might meet; Though she were true, when you met her, And last, till you write your letter, Yet she Will be False, ere I come, to two, or three. This poem reminds me of all the times where I find myself outside at night and look up at the stars. It reminds of the many times where I see a shooting star and quickly try to come up with a wish. I get a little frazzled because I want to make sure that I make a good wish, nothing stupid like a new gift, but something that may mean a little more to me later on.