Why is it that I can still not look forward when those who left me have never even glanced back?

Staring at the vast expanse above
The faint glows of stars peppered across an infinite darkness
I feel so knowledgeable yet know so little
But a grain of sand on a limitless beach
My imagination floats off...

Could I visit there one day
A pioneer exploring it
Could I one day walk amongst those mere specks of light
Discover the wonders of nature so far away
As I gaze at the stars is there someone gazing back?

Yet I barely know the ground in which I stand on
The place that I call home
Will I ever witness the local wonders
Megacities spawned from a dream decades back
Or even the wonders of my own home.

I switch my gaze to my hand
Millions of microorganisms swarming me
Do they dream of exploring the universe
Are they even aware of existence outside of me
Maybe we aren’t so different.

Until I snap out of it
My dream fizzles out like a flame
I remember I share this planet
And our dreams and wishes are the same
What’s the point in dreaming
When my existence has no purpose
Is there a presence up above scheming
Or will my existence end still worthless.

We all get lost sometimes,
trying to follow a stream of lightbulbs
flickering on in our heads
that lead to a place where you can unlock your heart.

Did I see a shooting star?
I shot up from my bed,
There was a white glowing dot racing through the sky.
Bigger than your average star
Faster, more elagant than a plane.
It soared diagnally across the sky.
I was in a daze.
A trail of sparkles and twinkle dust dispersed from its tail.
It went behind the trees, but I could still see for a moment.
Then it disappeared, into thin air.
No where to be found.
Not through the cracks of tree branches or by a gleam in the sky.
It was gone.
No destination or proper exit.
It left as mysteriously as it came.
I made my wish quick just in case it was meant for me,
"Please, I wish to be a great author"
Was that a shooting star?
Or a falling star?
Was it a star at all?
I wonder.

I feel the turning once again of this world on which I stand.
I feel the steady cosmic motions and ponder if it is planned.

Do you stop to think, as I am on occasion inclined to do.
To speculate if plans and turning are meant for me and you?

So short the time we witness the revolving of the world.
Seemingly too short a time to see purpose in any plans unfurled.

Do you know a faith that assures you of what tomorrow brings?
Or have you come to question any meaning in religious things?

No one has ever truly known if it was made to turn for me or you.
I know the world keeps turning endlessly no matter what I do.

The flow of time and its expanse argue against a mortal plan.
At least in terms of one centred upon the species we know as man.

Why so big and why so long and why be here at all?
Why believe ourselves important when we so obviously are small?

So short the time we play our piece in what a plan might be.
And so far the plans horizons... too far for our small minds to see.

And yet my mind is caught in the fact that we are small...
Why something seemingly insignificant witnesses or thinks at all?

8:47PM

Why is life worth more than death? Why is life more important than death? Why have we deemed death so bad? Does it get its negative reputation because its unknown? Because it's different ? because it's not something we can dabble in? We value life and despise death but without death life could not be. We exist because of life & death. They are one not two. We are scared of death because we are unsure of it; time ,time is a concept created by us to a sense of organization a sense of control in our lives. We do this for the future, we work , we study, we save , all for the future. But when is the future? Will it ever come? When will this utopia of a future end? How will we know when this future has come? We live towards a future we work for a future , we believe we have time until the future. But what if the future never comes? The future is the biggest lie life tells. The future is nonexistent. The future will never come. And when we are in our deathbeds we regret not living because we were supposed to “live” in the future. But the future never arrived and death came too soon. We accuse death of ruining our lives but did we ever live? If we spent our time working for this lie of  a future we never got to live in the time we did have. We merely survived. Should we stop surviving and start living instead? Should we give up our focus on this utopia of a future?
From childhood we have been condition to live life for the future. As kids we start imagining , planning this wonderful future. But for many that future will never come. They would die before they got to really start living-

Now I remain a polished stone
The river coursing around me
In soft and easy contours
Yet my life was not always known
By this harmonious flow

But craggy and rough, long ago
Struck ten million times
By rocks and sand and more
My smooth and glossy skin, I owe
To turbulence and tumbling

Even water alone shaped me
By sheer endurance and patience
Grinding and wearing
Turning me into what you see
A smooth and polished stone

So wonder not that you feel worn
And feel struck by blows undeserved
Count this for a purpose
For with the tossing you are born
A smooth and polished stone