The Myriad Stars

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The Myriad Stars
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On moonless desert nights, the stars are seen
As countless fires burning in the sky—
As beacons, signals from the ancient past,
So distant, cold—yet timeless and serene,
Unchanged, unbothered through our puny spans.
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******
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The sun, the moon, the planets, and the stars
Appear to us as watchers in the sky.
But this is mere appearance, nothing more.
So all the histories of life on Earth
And other planets, scattered through the vast,
Go unobserved, for all those “eyes” are just
As blind, to all, as yours and mine can be
To all but what may cross, by chance, our paths. 
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And yet, each part of space and time appears
To listen and to talk to other parts—
So every action is indeed observed
And every word I write and every thought
And everything you sense and feel is part
Of something that transcends both “you” and “I”.
We each have risen up like ripples from
A sea in which we will, in turn, subside.
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* * * * * * 
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So birth and death and all that’s in-between
Are tiny parts within a fluid whole
Where mind and matter, light and feeling mix,
As planets whirl in orbits ‘round their suns,
Within whose innards tiny atoms fuse
To light the giant fires that we perceive
On looking up at night as all those lights
Uncountable—the distant, burning stars.
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* * * * * * 
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And some believe our lives are governed by
The stars, as seasons of the year are tied
To what appears to be that moving dome
That does its stately circles, year by year.
And others, such as me, may disbelieve
And yet observe the tides of sun and moon
And sense the rhythms of the lungs and heart.
Each cycle is, of other cycles, part.
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The stars are born and die, like you and I—
And each of us is like a tiny whorl,
Within which whirl a zillion other whorls.
And so, in fractal fashion, each of us
Reflects the whirling of the universe.
And so the dervishes go ’round—and deep,
As yogis hold their poses, slowly move,
And Tai Chi masters dance in sensing arcs.
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****** 
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On desert nights we still can see those lights—
Those eyes that seem to watch our every move—
That see us kill and die in senseless wars—
That see the species, empires wax and wane—
Beneath the heavens with their myriad stars.
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2024 April 14th, Sun.
Berkeley, California
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