Celestial Bodies – A poem

escapril day 13: celestial bodies

Curtains close on daylight every day
Eventually, the fabric of a heavy blanket across the eyes
As the earth rolls over to let some of us sleep
And others with minds awakened by the moon
To keep thinking.
I’m beginning to wonder what’s so wrong with heavy.
Heavy eyelids allow me to dream and 
The weight atop my body feels safe, keeping me from just
Floating away.

Darkness births questions of purpose and worth and
Are we actually worthless? 
If those giant explosions of light in the sky
Are barely twinkles to our tiny eyes
What must we be to them?
We look to the sky thinking it will split and spill light 
From other realms or
Crack the code of everything we are, when
I doubt the stars even know why it rains.

The sky may be blue sometimes but is always
Black beyond our vision and
Is it really sky or rather infinity?
There are black holes we cannot see that swallow 
The fear of not questions but answers,
Because the black quilt pulled over our heads render us
Blind to everything but what consumes the mind.
We muse mysteries and search the stars
But they only make pictures in dot-to-dots
Because we see them.

I wonder if the stars connect us as we connect them,
Piecing us together with strings of light
Like puzzles in a pocket book,
I’m only a dot, barely visible between blinks,
But maybe we were both visible between the same blink.
Maybe we both sparkled at the same time,
And you led to me or I led to you.
Maybe I was one or maybe I was two,
Or maybe we blundered our own way into each others view.

The observable universe is less observable as it is imaginable.
I cannot leave fingerprints on the moon
Or lay footsteps on Jupiter or witness the colours of a star
Exploding (because to me it’s just a flicker),
But somehow it doesn’t matter.
The stars send a fateful reminder
That significance is blanketed in our perspectives,
And you are an eruption of colour greater than anything
I could imagine from stars.

We are equally below the cosmos and a part of it and
Perhaps the stars are significant to the sky,
But to me they are merely a fraction of curiosity
Further away than I could ever comprehend.
I am so lucky that you are touchable and within comprehension.
The stars are small from my perspective, and while beautiful,
They are romanticised diamonds worn by the sky, and
You aren’t a star but more –
You are product of what the stars have sewn, and
You are a celestial body to me, all of your own.