do you think the stars look down
on earth and count the people?
do you think the stars pick the prettiest ones, and call them
constellations?
do you think the stars called my brother a shooting star, as he
was hanging from the ceiling rafters by his neck?
do you think the stars count the people?
And I,
infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
I felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke loose on the wind.
Stars should not be seen alone.
That’s why there are so many. Two people should stand
together and look at them. One person alone will surely miss the
good ones.