The Stars are always Burning Despite the Blue Skies

In the ebb of the day, that is the night hour, I see the milky way as we call it here on earth, and the constellations and stellar arrangements make themselves visible. I stare into their glory realizing that even during my waking hours, during the flood of the day and the brightness of the sun, that these stars remain twinkling, merely hidden.

This ever-spinning earth has seen ups and downs and diagonals that humanity could hardly grasp to understand. Elegantly spinning and foolishly proceeding on, randomly hurtling and extremely expansively enthrallingly journeying into the unknown: this could end at any moment. Everything. All of human life. Every ounce of terrestrial life. One big cloud of soot from a volcano or asteroid unseen or even a self-inflicted cut-of-the-wrist by way of nuclear explosion: any or anything could end this motorcycle ride. So I breath. Deep;inhale, exhale. This is life—the stars—the ebb of the day—be thankful for what is now yours and what is today–and so I reach to them [the stars] with every ounce of my conscious mind and ask for those things I dream of, which to me, are most holy.