how i wonder what you are

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how i wonder what you are

Posted by Unknown Thursday, March 6, 2014 5 comments

The past few days have felt like I gave up on climbing that mountain over there called My Life. Like I made so much progress but eventually my feet became so numb that I couldn't move, so I laid down and watched the stars above me tell their stories. They told me mesmerizing tales of love and death and life and crayons and what it is to Be Human. . . . .. .

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I saw their beauty and reached up to touch them but they are stars and you can't actually touch them because they are too far away. Even if they weren't, they would burn me to death because no matter how lovely a star is you'll never be able to hold it in your hands and ask it all the questions you had about it when you were young. . . . . . . . .

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But that never stopped us from telling stories about them. It never stopped us from connecting them together with the strings of our imagination and turning them into pictures. . . . . . . .

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Let me tell you a story. And for once, it isn't going to be a story about You. . . .

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It isn't going to be a story about me, either. . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .

Let me tell you a story of the stars. . . . .

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For the whole of The Great Infinity the stars have acted as guardians against the vacuum of darkness that envelopes such a great portion of this universe. They are ancient beings that have protected us and inspired us since the beginning of this young earth. . . . . . . . .

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We made up our own stories about them and imagined we understood their purpose but I'm not sure that we ever truly have. There are endless words and songs and thoughts and dreams humans have connected with the stars, and often our hearts are closer to them then they are that cavity in our chests. . . . . . . . . . . .

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We find patterns in them and name them so their existence may comfort us and awe us when we lay on the hoods of cars late in the night pondering our own existence. We look to them in times of need and allow their light to guide us through the terrain of our own world. We follow them, although they never move. . . . . . .

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We listen to them, although they never say anything.

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We look to them for the future, although the light we see is eons older than we can comprehend. . . . . . . . . .. .

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Our children dream of them and sing of them and somewhere in their hearts, those children never stop. They can always be found in the corners of parks and on the hoods of cars and perched in trees, their eyes alight with stars. . . . . .

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And we will never know how they entrance us so.

So we continue to dream and think and sing and imagine from the time we're born

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until . . . . . .
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. . we
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. die. . . .

And join them.