Stars, an audience–they look down and laugh,

We stare back jaw slacked, eyes of wonder.

How foolish they must find us,

Our mountains out of molehills;

Stressing and straining over our tiny little lives.

Nothing mortal could compare to that of the universe!

Keeping all of those glorious stars twinkling,

Brightening the slate black sky.

How tired the heavens must be

Inspiring romance, hopes, dreams,

The joining of lovers,

Receiving only occasional recognition.

What do we give in return?

Nothing–we continue to take

Just as we have always done,

Just as we will always do.

Perhaps the stars look upon us as the children we are.

Spoiled yet naive to the ways of this world.

To these sages we look for heavenly guidance

Offering prayers for blessings imagined.

This is in our nature

Looking for the Divine in that which we cannot touch.

Who has not looked skyward and begged for mercy,

Beckoned for release from an ill fate,

Cried out for intervention?

We think ourselves the center of all,

Master of our domain–independent, indestructible

Until we are overwhelmed, broken and drowned in tears.

Then we look out upon the vast audience above

Putting on the grandest of shows for their pleasure,

Hoping, praying for accolades

And furtherance from the stars.

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~