Dust of the Stars

I am fascinated by the relative agelessness of so many things that, to us, are entirely “of the moment”. The endless progression of water in all its forms across our globe, the marvelous transmutations of the very air we breathe and, in this case, the light of the stars as it reaches us. A flashing waterfall, a breath, a moment’s glimpse in a dark night… And yet these things are at the core of our own souls as well.

---

We dwell with the dust of eternity
Settling around us:
The dust of every star ever spawned,
Still lies in each thought harbored
In the secret space of a heart.
How much does the light weigh
From trillions of stars?
Touching our faces like a feather
Dropped from a new-fledged bird,
Like a whisper of ancient air,
Exhaled from the far hills.
We are clothed in the dust of eternity,
And we wear it lightly
On our upturned faces
That look to the stars.
What time is there in the endless spinning
Of Bear and Eagle?
Only their sparks settle around us,
Lighting the pale path to tomorrow.

I feel old in the dusting of starlight
Whose silent drifts make visible
The breath of the night air,
Wet with tomorrow’s tears.
But I wear their light on my fingertips
As I break a trail through the midnight
Into eternity.