
sometimes
when I don’t have anything
to say
I sit
outside
and stare
at stars
just to remember
where
we came from
and wonder
how
all that cold, brittle dust
coalesced
into my warm, beating heart
and two eyes
that gaze
back to space
to our origins
a home we left
long ago
and yet
belong
still
and sometimes
when I’m scared
or don’t know
which way
to go
I’ll sit
out there
too
just to take in
the comforting, black void
that surrounds us
all
and knows us
each
by name
A poem by Amber Byers 1/16/25
I love this, Amber. The phrase, "and wonder
how
all that cold, brittle dust
coalesced
into my warm, beating heart"
is especially poignant.