A speaker looks up at a bright turquoise star in the night sky and turns it into a kind of guide. The opening is simple and musical, with short lines and rhymes like "bright," "light" and "night," and the words "glimmering, shimmering" make the star feel almost alive. Even when a passing plane tries to pull the speaker's eye away, the star remains the thing they come back to.
The poem then shifts from description to something more personal. Calling the star "king of the heavens," the speaker asks its faint light to help them find their "one true self." They admit that others see something good in them that they can't believe in, and that they have denied their own heart "from the start." The mood is quiet, hopeful and a little vulnerable: it feels like a late-night wish. By repeating the opening lines at the end, the poem returns to the star, as if the speaker has found some calm in looking at it.