Standing in the mirror
she failed to divine
the scope
of a universe just above
the horizon. Unseen
within herself,
distracted by visions
of reflected glory, her dreams
begged for sunlight.
The astronaut neglected
to recognize the gravity
of the situation,
but with luck she will
seize the opportunity
another daybreak illuminates, light
bounding among
the star-point hopes
lost among the dark.
He chose life because he did
not consider the alternative
viable,
poor man.
He quivered
with the thought of the after –
overwhelmed – life,
a cosmic conviction
that on such scale
(weighing on him still) he is
insignificant but
remains a light in the void.
What is it about stars that so captivates us?
The sparkle we mirror in our eyes?
The glimmer we hope will carry us
through whatever blackness surfaces?
Warmth dulled through lightyears still
envelops me in a hug at midnight
drawing me in to their group,
part of a constellation. Of something.
The universe is but black, vast and empty,
a vacuum devoid of meaning,
swallowing what it may, but bespeckled
randomly with dust of light
scattered haphazardly out there. Up there.
I follow the light, something to reach for,
hands stretched to the stars
that so captivate me like millions before –
will we ever get closer to them?
