stargazing

deep swirling darkness
pages of spilled ink
flecked with glowing blue-white,
scintillating, soft reds,
in the world-ancient tome

if i look far out into the horizon
the firmaments shift into a dome
three flashing dots glide by in tight formation--
a pitiful imitation.

on my tiny planet,
i see the stars,
count them,
or try, at least.
but can never own them.

they've seen far more than i can imagine
they've burned far brighter than what my eyes can bear
they're born in fanfare
they live in flame
they die in quiet glory in the void
they guide me, guard me, warm me, warn me
and i float on
to distances yet unknown