Starlight used to make me so sad.
The bright light of a star long dead
reaching me here with a tragic hope.
I stare at them through teary eyes
and wonder if maybe, just maybe,
we are wrong about starlight.
Perhaps starlight should bring me joy.
Those bright lights, so steady, so true.
Guiding sailors, farmers and guides
through time unfailing in their task.
I stare at them through wondering eyes
and think, “How far does your light travel
and maybe, just maybe, your light
isn’t a dead light after all. But reborn!”
Starlight, like a phoenix, rises beyond our
measure and while the light of one fades
as it dies, it take so long to reach us that
it never really dims, but is replaced by
a new light, of a star reborn. Born anew
from the faded and thread bare universe.
A patch that seamless joins old and new.
Starlight, more alive than dead. Not an echo
of something long since gone but more than.
An echo and a newborn cry, a dying spark
and a flash of new life – all at once. Far in time.
And we, in hindsight only, see nothing but
the endless. The faithful. The star lights eternal.
Death conquered, and birth affirmed. Spirals
of eternity weave through my mind and I must
look away. Dizzy and holding tight to the endless.
This is what happens when I think too much about things like time, space, light, travel and stars. I wondered last night, staring at an impossibly bright and starry sky if perhaps their dying light overlaps a birthing light and that’s how we never lose our stars. And faith is like that too…but that is a deep thought for another day! Enjoy.