Deep in the grass I nestle down,
With the night-wind in my ears,
And the hem of the heavens arches above,
Where the stars are cosmic tears.
My eyes imbibe this world of the suns
At the indigo edge of the sky;
This world where asteroids tangle,
And stars and nebulae collide—
This world with fields of waltzing stars;
Eternal tears and fire—
And one star breaks its cosmic chain
To light its own funeral pyre.
A blaze of light— now there, now gone,
Like a jewel from a broken crown,
And the rest of the stars in their tunics of white
Witness, and watch it fall down.
No gap in the sky is left by its passing;
The heavens the same as before.
Just one little star in ten millions of systems,
Burned once and remembered no more.
So the stars twinkle on in their pathways ordained,
All ordered and bright and the same.
Yet it’s strange to imagine, as bright as they are,
That we’ve given them all just one name.
We notice them all and remember not one,
For a star in the sky is a star.
One galaxy spans nearly ten trillion miles,
And a nebula’s arms stretch too far.
Eternal, perhaps, but untouchable too,
So cold and so distant and white;
And what good is a star, eternal or not,
When it’s nothing but gas, dust, and light?
When that one lonely star dared to reach for the earth,
Its eternity passed in one gleam.
But better to blaze in one moment of life
Than smolder forever, unseen.