above us all, the stars gleam.
a constant source of light and beauty
sorely neglected by all
simply because they have shone for all time,
the wonder of their existence is lost
to all but few souls
humanity,
blind to its omnipresent beauty,
has buried the celestial spectacle under the glare
of a thousand lifeless bulbs
what drives this senseless destruction?
how does the constant presence of art cheapen is existence?
do a thousand Davids make the marbel less pure?
the form less fluid?
the artistry less precise?
does a daily show of starlight
make the display less astounding?
why do people come in droves to watch Haley's comet?
is it the beauty?
is it that beauty is so rare?
what would happen if the wonder of the stars only appeared once
every seventy years?
every hundred?
every thousand?
would more people go outside to watch it? would everyone?
might the flickering of screens of televisions,
computers,
fall into the mute oblivion of powerless sleep?
might the world shut down,
if only for one night?
slumber, while the mystery of existence is rediscovered?
might the evening stars
once more inspire awe,
once more move men to wonder at the abject majesty of nature?
i can only hope humanity rediscoveres such glory soon,
before we bury the crystal shards of night under the blazing gleam
of our own thoughtlessness
forever.
