Catching Stars

I am catching a star in a net, or dancing a jig in the air, 
I am faster than I am, or shouting my whispered secret.
I am…not sure and in pain. Struggling to remain—there's the rhyme. 

I struggle to remain despite the pain.
Or is this rhyme too plain?
I am afraid, this time, no change
could be affected on the strange. 

The strange, I say what is it? 
and if it changed, how to know?
For the strange, what is fit?
This thing, does shrink or grow? 

I wander in the words and wonder in the world.

I have not found it yet.