When the winter wind is blowing and the nights are freezing cold,
I will venture in the alley and I’ll look up at the sky.
And I’ll see, above the city, in the darkness, burning stars.
In the crystal air of winter, it will seem that they are near.
And though I cannot touch them, they will reach into my past –
A past I cannot speak of, a history unwritten,
That still is in awareness – that is distant, like the stars,
But is waiting for remembrance, like the shadow by my side.
For the self has not forgotten all the beings it has been.
And the mind has not forgotten all the visions it has seen.
Through the ages and the eons, they’ve been layered deep beneath…
So I’ll shiver in that alley, as I gaze up at the stars…
When this body-soul is vanished, and the traces of it lost,
Will another, from an abyss, in a cloudless season, see
The fires that burn in darkness, like the beacons that they are?
Will that being stare and shiver, in its wonder and its fear?
Through the eons and the ages, as the sun went up and down,
As it traveled north and southwards and as Luna waxed and waned,
The stars have crossed the heavens of this place we call the Earth.
How many eyes have seen them, from this planet of their birth?
How many more, on planets that are whirling 'round the stars,
Have gazed at them in wonder – from the distant, distant past
To the present – and in future will be gawking at them still?
How many eyes united, by their visions of the all?
When the winter wind is blowing and the water’s turned to ice,
I will see the star-fires burning, in the darkness of the night.
And in my recollection, there’ll be stirrings of the past,
And the part of me that’s speechless will be spellbound at the sight…