Blue Skies

The first time I saw bright white spots of light in my Brooklyn skies in the depths of winter, I looked up, wide eyed-- my face lit up with a silly smile. 'How can this be?' I wondered with glee. What a miracle it seemed that these dead lights shine through the smog, the thick poisoned air and atmosphere.

And here I was, in the middle of giving up believing in miracles. In the middle of losing belief in God. But who needs God anyway? When the science behind creation is so much more interesting-- so much more beautiful, than the simplicity of just being put here. That the Earth is alien and that I am alien, these explanations are worthy of praise! The skill and innovation of the natural world! And I understand why people worshiped the elements of the sky.

And that sky. That beautiful sky. With it's impressive moon that follows that sun until the sun is gone and waits until it comes back. That moon, with its beautiful friends. I wonder how it feels when all your friends are stars, but I think I can kind of guess...

The night makes me think about you. The star spangled night winks back at me, embraces me in blue velvet like you never did. It's very different missing something that was there, but then was there no more than it is missing something that was never there, and instead feels like an orifice in the face of your heart. Like the sky missing a moon. It's not yearning, it's incompleteness.

But then the sky reminds me of how inconsequential I am in the grand scheme of things. My eyes, my heart, my soul are filled with the warmth of the blue, diamond spangled velvet. And a tear trickles down, attempting to mirror the shine of the star, as a memory of the bit of alien that I am, and the earth is. Thoughts of myself, and you melt away into the distance and I am filled with the beauty of the everlasting, infinite universe.

Dedicated to JD Salinger- the inspiration for my continued writing.