Why do we look to the stars,
When we could look to ourselves,
For answers unringed from our furtive bells?
Externally valid in our navigating–
Our selves stay at home, hidden awaiting,
Bodies in spaces where no one is screaming,
We cling to Orion’s belt, foiled and seething;
Desperate, we seek our forsaken divine,
Lost to the ebb and flowing of time.
Until at last we fall from this grace,
Embalmed with dirt masking a face–
Self-service eroded by forward procedure,
We’ll keep looking on, when no one is here;
Burnt away in life’s fortune and flames,
Wandering hollow with forgotten names,
We’ll look to the stars reflected in the mere,
Without ever knowing we’ve always been there.