Messieral starts by brushing aside a question we might expect to matter: what language a poem is written in. The speaker says it hardly counts, because writer and reader belong to a larger shared language, one learned through dreaming. That idea of connection runs through the whole poem.
From there the mood turns hopeful and a little wistful. The speaker imagines reader and writer playing at reading starlight while poetry lifts them, easing their sadness until it feels like a half-remembered story that once moved them. A comet arrives as a kind of witness to all those shared dreams and to the hope that comes with each new morning.
The last line, set apart, carries the poem's wish: a world where words are strong enough to dissolve weapons. The tone is gentle and idealistic, more a longing than a claim. The speaker seems to believe that if people truly understood one another, conflict would lose its force.