We were talking about stars, or lack thereof,
above the city of illuminated streets where we walk
among satellites in a synthetic solar system that swallows us,
with lights burning so ferociously, competing to shine,
we are lucky to see two or three stars, looking up,
so you stand beneath streetlamps instead.
We were also talking about what you encounter
in life that is valuable. I told of my belief
that will not be shaken, even from the holdiing
of hands as unsteady as mine-
that beauty one is born with bears an absolute value of none.
He told me then that this may be so, but then again,
if I were to be correct in believing
that it is only effort, time, tenacity, trying or devotion
that can be deemed valuable, then what is it,
exactly, that the stars are doing?
Flaming orbs of burning gas and cosmic dust
but not for trying, not of their own volition.
Stars don't do a thing and if they had a finger
they would not lift it, so why, he said,
when you get the chance to see stars
beyond the closed-up city compartments,
beyond to those effortless constellations,
do you see something that bears no value
yet is so beautiful, it makes you ache?
It changed my thoughts- at least about stars-
so when the day comes for catching them as they begin to fall
perhaps the flame that falls like rain will not be worthless after all.
