So much of those stars
is just bright lights
until you sincerely gaze at each
and on and on,
and cannot see them all.
So many stars.

So many ones. So many lives.
So many points of terror,
loss,
so many hopes extinguished,
nightmares drawn.

You cannot count them all.
So many stars.

But do not turn away.

Should you turn away,
you close your heart to beauty
burned from torment wells.
Beauty shaped molten lava into
dancing porous stones, brilliant black shards
and nothing lost.

Dances on, outpouring
comfort stones.
All things left here,
waiting on the something more
that we shall gaze into
to see the stars.