Made of stars and ashes

One by one my stars go out,
And it is ages from the morning yet.

Inhale, hold, exhale
Slowly, feeling the breath
That reminds you of life,
Like the pains that shock you
And rock you with rack and ruin,
Like that first taste of
Meals prepared by your hands
That tell you exactly how
You are still able to do things,
And enjoy what you do,
Wounds and all.

One by one the stars
Appear on your skin,
Burns of lives lived with yours
That mark you even after
They’ve gone cold and dark.

Look to the heavens:
The light you see
Is what reaches you
Eons after the stars die.

In the dark, the heartbeat of life.
In the last pulses of light,
The message that death
Does not stop joy
From reaching your world.

In your hands:
The means to reach
One more day
Of emitting your own light.
Contrasts make things
Clearer, more tangible,
Easier to appreciate.

The stars go out.
Stars are born.

The universe
Replenishes itself
As you replenish
What you lose
When your stars go out
Before daybreak.

You learn how to
Give yourself the light
You once sought
From the vast night sky.

You learn to illuminate
Someone else’s umber evenings
And your pain mellows
Into a throb that is life
Knit from death’s threads
So you remember
That we are all made
From stardust and ashes.