I caught the stars dancing last night.
They didn’t see me see.
They were twinkling away in the velvet blue,
As normally as could be.
When they must have heard a penny flute,
Or the beat of a tom-tom drum.
Because right in front of my honest eyes,
There began a strange procession.
The stars abandoned their usual posts,
And shuffled into a line.
Then began to march across the sky
In a quivering celestial spine.
You won’t believe this tale I’ve told,
Without evidence, I think.
So jump into the cyber web,
And Google, “Aliens or Starlink?“
Humans are great and all but we’re total cowards when it comes to nature.
It’s a miracle that we survived long enough to escape it at all.
We trap the sun in a glass to ward away wolves, wrap ourselves in comforting cloth to forget the cold of the wild, and bang our drums all night to scare off the ghosts.
And that’s all great.
But one thing we never see anymore is the stars.
Oh sure, we’ve all seen a couple of them. You probably even know the names of a few. But most people never get to truly see the stars.
That thick, soft, glimmering night that presses itself into the back of your eyes from beyond time.
The startling realization that you’ve lived 30 years in the light and haven’t really seen anything at all.
The unsettling thrill of knowing there is really no end to the places we can go and the wonders we’ll see…
But nobody gets to see the stars anymore because we’re too afraid to walk into the dark.
And that’s the only way to see them.