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.

The starlight.


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.