stars

The truth of the matter was something much more subtle and tremendous than any plain physical miracle could ever be. But never mind that. The important thing was that, when I did see the stars (riotously darting in all directions according to the caprice of their own wild natures, yet in every movement confirming the law), the whole tangled horror that had tormented me finally presented itself to me in its truth and beautiful shape. And I knew that the first, blind stage of my childhood had ended.

Love me like today is the last day we can see stars in the sky, let us sleep under them and throw ourselves into the oblivion and never again reach out for reality.

I could watch him do this until morning _ never asking questions and never interrupting his work. I worship quietly _ his intense focus and attention to detail and then, out of no where, I realize the inconvenient, inappropriate truth: __ love this man_ and it has swallowed me.

I am giving my all in all to the sacred moments.

As far as I can go, I will reach for it.

Rise and shine! The Lord__ anointing is upon you.

And if the stars should ever die, we'll make our own light, you and I.

I paint the darkness and the silence, You see them as stars and poetry.

You are not going to burn out, you're just beginning. You have an entire galaxy of stars burning fiercely inside of you and once the blaze begins it's impossible to annihilate. Passion can't be contained.

Whatever your faith prompts you to do, begin now.

I remember once kissing you, your face lit by northern stars. Promising to grow old with you, and now so simply breaking the promise.

Whether people need nature or not, it was clear that nature needed people. But perhaps nature needs us like a hostage needs her captors: nature needs us not to annihilate her, not to run her over, not to cover her with cement, not to chop her down. We can hardly admire ourselves, then, when we stop to accommodate nature's needs: we are dubious heroes who create peril and then save it's victims, we who rescue the animals and the trees from ourselves.

The reason I sketch your pic at times because in your smile I see something more beautiful than the stars.

I wear the universe backwards. I imagine putting stars in my coffee, and sugar in the sky. I imagine going fishing in clouds, and watching the sun hide behind lakes. I'm too busy dancing with my imagination to even tip toe with reality for a second. They say I'm going mad. They're right.

Years from now, when all the junk they got is broken and long forgotten, you'll still have your stars.

Tell me where the swans go in the winterI need to know if the mute ones can sing.Tell me why stars fall from the skyI need to know if it is luck they bring.Tell me why feathers land near youI need to know if you've injured your wing.Now, tell me where you end, my angelFor I no longer know where I begin.

I want you to hold the rising sun,I__ hearing the stars calling me ;

Outside the window, a bank of clouds appeared on the horizon, inching slowly across the sky, finally slipping across the Moon and blocking out its radiant light. As he clicked off his overhead light, he turned his eyes one last time to the heavens. Outside, in the newly fallen darkness, the world had been transformed. The sky had become a glistening tapestry of stars.