I live in a place where seeing the stars on a crystal summer night is commonplace; the edison lights of strong cities are distant and enveloped in the blackness of velvet, maritime nights.
The beautiful truth about gazing at the stars is not that one simply looks at their shimmering beauty and appreciates their gift, but rather that their aged beauty looks into us.
Seeing what it can see, the entering starlight parts the soft curtains of our soul, scintillates the lifewaters it finds, and draws from our lips a breath of thanks.