You are made of crumbled stardust,
Modelled and reshaped over and over
Into different people until now when
That stardust is you.
Millions upon millions of people have
Looked up at the moon, the same moon
That Shakespeare and Cleopatra and
The dinosaurs all saw, even though they
Are dead and gone you are here. Maybe
Your stardust came from one of them.
The universe is expanding and yet it is still
A constant.
The night sky has baffled any and all who gaze upon it,
(we just have the means to discover and name the
things that reside there now)
And it is every bit as beautiful as when Van Gogh painted
A starry night.