I Am Fulfilled By Stars

Looking up at the immediate stars...Up there nothing is striving, or if it is, it is certainly not precious. What is it that strives for or against? Here we lay waste our powers for sordid boons, energy, bodily and otherwise, sleeks through eternity. Out there is is here and here is out there, but light seems to be precious. Assembled energies. What is my connection to all that? The ground of being that notices? One who sees and is seen? One who remembers and bears witness? Looking at the heavens how can one not feel enormously happy, happy against all odds and reason. How can we not feel immeasurably large and immeasurably small? How does one not cry? Searching the heavens is a worthwhile activity, I think. If one did that and little else what a life that would be! Looking out at the stars I am fulfilled. Tonight is one more day of eternity, one more night of the universe unfolding...Spirit waiting, working, striving, resting, till the moment it turns around in the mirror of emptiness and sees itself. Till then I keep watch over the stars...