Some nights I look up at the stars and see art.
I am struck by wonder and awe.
Their glow fills my heart and every crevice of my soul.
I search until I find the shape of two shining eyes and a smile in the disconnected dots.
I talk to that approachable yet unknowable face,
And strain to hear any whispered words it might return.
I see lighthouses in the sky.
I see a reason to stay alive.

Other nights, I look up and see simply spheres of gas.
Hydrogen and helium.
Lanterns destined to burn out and die,
Along with all the lights and lives below them.
Blindly surviving in a vast space that is too dark And too empty.
Mindless chemicals endlessly reacting while we Twist them into purpose and prophecies,
Empty promises.

But every night I look at the stars, I can’t deny their beauty.