Stars

Here I am again staring at the vastness of the stars above my head, something I’ve done over and over again since I was a child. I would sit out on our back patio, listening to the crickets chirp, and the breeze rustle through our old willow tree. No one cared to ask where I was. Out in the country the street light didn’t call me in, common sense did. If I chose to walk outside in the dark of night, nobody stopped me. I was free to think dream, and act. Under the stars on our old picnic table I found myself piecing together my first creative words, a poem- or maybe a song. I don’t remember what, only how I felt in that moment under the sky.

Now I’m older and although I no longer live at that house on Baxter road, I still find myself outside looking above. Here I can breathe, think, and grow, appreciating the universe above and how small it makes me feel. A vast sea of emptiness and beauty that makes me wonder the purpose of it all. And I’m addicted to the feeling. I’m addicted to the lust I feel for stars and the high I feel at night. Alone with my thoughts my soul can relax as the stress of my life melts away. I wonder where I’ll be in 30 more years when I’m looking up at these same old stars.