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?