Chapter 1: The Boy and the Sky

Once upon a time, there was a boy who lived in a tiny village beneath a sky so vast, it seemed to stretch beyond the edges of the world. He had never seen anything but that sky, and yet, he believed it held endless secrets. His name was Prayden, and though he had the ordinary life of a child—climbing trees, playing with friends, helping his parents—he always wondered about the stars above.

Prayden had a special gift: he could hear the stars. It wasn’t as though the stars spoke with words, but in the quiet of the night, Prayden could sense their stories. Sometimes they whispered of distant lands and forgotten histories. Other times, they hummed softly, as though they were singing a lullaby no one else could hear.

One evening, while the sun sank into the horizon, Prayden heard a soft calling from one of the stars. It was faint at first, like a thread of music in the distance, but it grew clearer with each passing second. He had to find out what it meant.

And so, Prayden did the only thing that made sense to him—he decided to climb to the sky.

Chapter 2: The Journey Begins

The next morning, Prayden woke with a sense of purpose. He packed a small bag with bread, a flask of water, and his favorite red scarf. He kissed his parents goodbye and promised he’d return soon, though deep down, he wasn’t sure when that might be.

He started his climb. He climbed higher than any boy had ever climbed before, through the hills, past the forests, and into the mountain range where the clouds brushed against his fingertips. With each step, the air grew thinner, and the ground beneath him became more rugged. But the pull of the star was undeniable.

Soon, Prayden came across a peculiar path. It was made of silver stones that shimmered underfoot. He followed it, and the farther he walked, the more he noticed that the world around him seemed to shift. Trees turned to glass, flowers bloomed in colors he had never seen, and the sky itself seemed to bend, as if inviting him to go further.

After hours of walking, Prayden arrived at a plateau, where a great stone archway stood. Beneath it sat an old man, his white beard trailing to the ground, his eyes as deep as the night sky. He was gazing at the stars, his hands folded in his lap.

“You’ve come to seek the stars,” the old man said without turning his head.

Prayden nodded. “I hear them calling.”

The old man smiled. “Then you must learn their language.”

Chapter 3: The Keeper of Stars

The old man led Prayden to a small cave beneath the archway, where the walls were covered in strange symbols and glowing constellations. The cave was filled with an otherworldly light, and it smelled of earth and stardust. Prayden felt like he had entered another realm altogether.

“You see, young one,” the old man said, sitting down cross-legged beside him, “the stars are not mere lights in the sky. They are beings, just like you and me. They are ancient, and they hold the stories of the universe.”

Prayden listened intently.

“Each star carries a memory, a lesson. Some are sad, others joyful, but all are important. You hear their whispers because you are ready to understand their language. But you must learn to listen with more than just your ears.”

For days, Prayden sat with the old man, learning how to hear the stars. He was taught to feel their vibrations in his heart, to see their light through his eyes, and to understand their silence as much as their sound.

And then, one night, the old man gave him a small, golden key. “This is the key to the star you have been searching for. It will show you the path, but you must use it with care.”

Prayden took the key, his hands trembling. “How will I know which star to unlock?”

The old man chuckled softly. “The stars you seek will find you when you are ready.”

Chapter 4: The Star

With the key in hand, Prayden climbed higher than before, following the faint glow of a distant light. The stars seemed to guide him, their whispers growing louder with each step. He came to a towering stone pillar where the night sky opened up like a great doorway.

At the top of the pillar, Prayden found a single star, more beautiful than any he had ever seen. It shone with a light that was both soft and fierce, like a flame that would never go out. Prayden approached it, holding the key out before him. As he did, the star seemed to shimmer, as if recognizing him.

He placed the key into a small lock at the center of the star, and with a soft click, the star began to unravel, unfolding like a delicate flower. The light around him grew brighter, and the whispers of the stars became a symphony of voices.

The star spoke to him, not with words, but with a feeling that filled his chest.

“Prayden, you have unlocked the heart of the sky. What do you seek?”

Prayden thought for a moment. “I want to understand the stars. I want to know their stories.”

The star smiled, and its light wrapped around him like a warm embrace.

“The stars do not need to be understood. They simply need to be seen. The stories are in the looking, not in the knowing.”

Chapter 5: The Return

When Prayden awoke, he was back in his village, sitting beneath the vast sky. The stars were still there, twinkling as always, but now they seemed more alive than ever. They were not just lights in the sky. They were companions, silently watching over him.

From that night on, Prayden spent his evenings gazing at the stars, knowing that each one held a story—a story he could never fully understand, but one he would always cherish. And sometimes, when the wind was just right, he could hear them whispering to him once again, not in words, but in the music of the universe.

And that was enough.

The End

The Star Keeper’s Journey

children’s book

Fantasy

A story about a little boy who hears the sky speaking to him, so he decides to take a journey to try to reach the stars

Anyone with an imagination Betwee and 12

I’ve had an extremely hard life battling abuse, addiction, incarceration but I have never lost my faith.

I am a published author of a poetry book called poets voice by David Samuel King

I have a associates degree in theology currently going for a bachelors.

I love to write I love watching movies and playing with my son Prayden.

I was born in Little Rock, Arkansas, but I was raised in Armona, California

I don’t really have a style of writing. I love to write about all kinds of different things.

I am 39 years old I will be 40 in April.

Lena sat on the edge of the couch, the glass pipe resting in her hand like an old friend. The room was dim, the only light coming from the flickering TV. The haze of smoke clouded the air, wrapping her in its embrace. Her heart raced with anticipation, but also with a deep, gnawing sadness she had grown used to. She took the hit, feeling the familiar burn in her chest as the high started to take hold.

But as the smoke left her lungs, something shifted.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a message from her brother: “Mom’s asking about you. She’s worried.”

Lena’s fingers trembled as she stared at the words. She hadn’t spoken to her mom in months, not since the last argument, not since the last time her mom begged her to stop, to come home, to fix herself. The guilt had never left, but it had become easier to ignore. Easier to drown it out.

She reached for the pipe again, but this time, her hand faltered. Her reflection in the TV screen caught her eye, blurry and distorted, but clear enough for her to see the hollow look in her own eyes. A moment of clarity. A fleeting one, but enough to crack through the fog that had clouded her thoughts for so long.

The pipe felt cold and foreign in her hand now. It had been her escape for so long—her only constant, her only source of peace in a world that felt out of control. But now, as she stared at the smoke curling around her fingers, she saw it for what it really was: a trap. A lie she had told herself, over and over, that it made everything okay when it only made things worse.

For the first time in years, Lena stood up, her legs unsteady. The room spun around her, but her focus remained on the phone, still buzzing with that simple message. She picked it up, her thumb hovering over the screen for a long moment before she typed back, her hands shaking.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m coming home.”

The words felt heavy, like they didn’t belong to her. But they were real. The weight of them pressed down on her chest, and she knew, with an aching clarity, that she couldn’t keep running. Not anymore.

Lena dropped the pipe on the floor, her breath shaky as she turned toward the door. As she stepped outside, the cold air hit her like a shock, but it was a shock that grounded her. She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the night settle around her.

It wasn’t much. It wasn’t a cure. But it was a beginning.

And for the first time in a long while, Lena felt like she could finally move forward.

The intellectual mind screams to be heard, wisdom is delivered from God through little red words.

But nobody seems to care about what everybody knows they said.

It’s as if they choose destruction, Russian roulette bullet through the head.

Truth is, God became his own kid.

Humbled to infancy.

blind, but now they see.

locked in chains bound in prison, but now they’re free.

Transvestites fly kites as full grown men dress like cats.

Guns in backpacks.

And yet we step back and watch as the devil turns rainbows in the butterflies and calls it pride.

But that’s a lie.

Everything happening in our world today is a distraction.

Lucifer wants to see how far facts bend.

Keeping people addicted to Dope and never allowing their tracks to mend.

For if we are not of sober, mind, Lions prowl until it’s time.

We must know that Jesus is King, and always keep him in the center of everything.

True love, no ring.

Standby, for the disposition of grace is about to come to an end.

Drowning in sin, with no friends.

From lamb to lion, all knees will bow.

No longer for Love, but straight out of fear, some will be taken, but most left here.

Lord lord, we cast out devils in your name and caused people with no sight to see too.

I never knew you .

If I had no limit on my money or my time.

I would buy the world and claim nothing as mine.

Hunger and no place to call home.

It wouldn’t exist because I would give everybody a loan.

Next, I would create a way to spread the gospel in one day.

Then write a book teaching everyone to pray.

And then I would just give it away, so everyone on earth would know exactly what to say.

Giving them the opportunity to finally be free.

From the fear, pain and all of their anxiety.

Diminishing their mental hell and creating a peaceful society.

It was a quiet street with well-manicured lawns and white picket fences. Everyone on my block knew each other and greeted each other every morning, but something about the new neighbor always left me feeling uneasy.

I'd see him coming and going, always sneaking around, and never staying long enough to chat. Then one evening, I'd just finished hanging laundry on the line when I heard loud shouts coming from his house. It sounded like someone was in danger.

I rushed over to his front door, knocked five times, but there was no answer. That's when I heard it - a woman's shriek, in the basement of the house. I could see a red light from behind the window, and I knew I had to do something.

I called the police and gave them a tip on the neighbor, that something illegal was going on in his home. But even though they searched the house that night, they found nothing, nothing incriminating.

I knew all along! How could I prove it? I kept my eyes glued to the neighbor's house, always watching for something to present itself.

Days passed, and I realized the search of his basement never penetrated deeply enough, so I made my way over to his window and began a discreet investigation, taking pictures. I identified pictures and strange objects hung on his walls, and in the end, found pictures of a young woman who went missing four years earlier.

I collected all the evidence and handed it over to the authorities. Finally, the neighbor was caught and admitted to the crimes. It was the biggest news story of our town. While it was a terrifying experience, I was grateful that I persisted in the search and was able to make a difference.

In the end, justice was served, and the neighbors lived a little bit safer with a killer off the streets.

I sprout from the ground with joy, pushing away the dirt, that tries to imprison me.

In search for the sun, because my spirit screams, it will nourish me .

I am inspired to grow as high as the highest tree.

The clouds of this world try to hide the sun and lie to me.

Forever rain producing that eternal water that helps me grow.

Lightning may strike thunder me roar, but I will not allow my leaves to hang low.

I am exactly what He created me to be, different not like every other tree.

The concrete underneath my feet is overwhelmed with lies and deceit.

For my tears cascade Upon my visions interpretation, causing me to walk on the Ocean’s at my feet.

Signs of pain and hunger, in my hearts eye as I pass them by.

Intoxication and the infestation of addiction with filthy hands, grasping for anyone to listen.

Imprisoned by their fleshly desires to get higher.

Dirty needles and aids, causing the sand in their hourglass to expire.

From dust to dirt, then fire.

The devil is a liar.

It is the fires of hell that call the names of the wicked and lost.

Tormented cries from the lives that denied what happened on the cross.

His blood was shed for the forgiveness of their sins, and yet they said it was a lie.

Tortured by the decisions of their choices and lasting impressions of their lives.

The disposition of grace is like the sand in a hourglass that is quickly dissolving on its own.

The white throne judgment awaits at the gates of his throne.

Heaven or Hell where will you call home?

The sound of thunder calls me to fear.

Awakened, with the desire to find mother nature’s voice.

I stare.

Into the sky until a bolt of lightning leaves no more choice.

Instant peace.

I can hear cries, as I rise.

Staring back at my reflection, paralyzed.

Flashes of light, draw my attention to memories of the past.

Some of them good some of them bad, but only one that lasts.

I’m standing in the darkness with tears on my face as he enters in.

He’s laughing at the site of my tears, as if only evil lives within.

I remember fear as he approached me with hate.

It was my innocence that he was there to take.

As my vision begins to fade and my tears begin to dry.

I can hear a river of innocence whispering that’s a lie.

For your innocence will be restored my son and all that pain is finally done.