The starlight that falls into our hands, across our faces, through our constellation-gazing, over the water and shore, brightening the path of late night walks … it has traveled great distances and long years to reach this moment. What will we do with it? Will we notice it? Or care? This gift of energy expending itself, journeying across the universe until it reaches the only eyes that will see its brilliance and birth, teases the imaginations of minds that can weave dreams out of its being, or kindle hearts to write songs about its arrival and departure?
It is a long dark season, and if you are like me on cold nights, you also yearn for the dance of the stars.
by W. S. Merwin