lost in constellation
as a child with terrible vision, i never realized what stars actually meant. finally, the summer i turned 11, i was given my first pair of glasses. with the new glasses, i was sent to a summer science camp, located in a mountain camp site.
one night, during the evening activity,
look up, the leader said.
look up to the stars.
city child, i thought: right. stars. okay.
there they were.
all the stars, falling into my eyes,
like the greatest waterfall,
with raging power, they fell,
endlessly, speaking timeless stories,
the stories that i never really heard,
till i could see them.
they spun and spun.
the more i looked, the more fell,
until my eyes were full of white dots,
bright eternal ancient beyond my comprehension.
people come into one's life.
we do not know what they are. or what they are to become. some may stay a while, some may stay, if a bit far. some may collide. some has been there, perhaps waiting silently in eternity, resonating. gravity.
just like a constellation chart.
then all things collide- when time comes. rosetta just landed on a comet. rosetta went up, ten years ago, in hope of opening up our ears and eyes to the messages that may have been waiting for us through inconceivably large time scale. just like when one runs into another's life, gravity pull, finding the right orbit- may be close, may be far.
i went to see interstella (2014) today. and nolan portrayed the exact issue: when all we have known, the constants such as time and earth, becomes variables, where do we go from there as human beings? human beings, that is to live with/through/for/by love?
how is it a child may be related to a parent when the constant of time flips in the greatest opposite?
how would we determine courage, as courage requires enormous amount of fear?
what do we mean?
do we mean love, when we say love? (beckett)
with whirling snow flakes that came throughout the day, i briefly wonder if each snow flake may carry the story of a unique universe, a life, that we may never know about. as one cannot conceive things that are out of one's own relative scale.
it is the time of the year where death and renewal becomes a reality. quiet march into the zero. the apocalypse. the salvation. the cusp.
with all the messages resonating one simple question, i am lost, contently, however, with a sense of being lost, yearning, to understand what it is: love, universe, life. i fall into the velvet anesthetic of the early winter night, bottomless, silent, full of unspoken feelings. gravity.