Sometimes as a antidote
To fear of death,
I eat the stars.
 
Those nights, lying on my back,
I suck them from the quenching dark
Till they are all, all inside me,
Pepper hot and sharp.
 
Sometimes, instead, I stir myself
Into a universe still young,
Still warm as blood:
 
No outer space, just space,
The light of all the not yet stars
Drifting like a bright mist,
And all of us, and everything
Already there
But unconstrained by form.
 
And sometimes it’s enough
To lie down here on earth
Beside our long ancestral bones:
 
To walk across the cobble fields
Of our discarded skulls,
Each like a treasure, like a chrysalis,
Thinking: whatever left these husks
Flew off on bright wings.
 
-- Rebecca Elson

No-one has marked out the road
you are to take
out in the unknown
out in the blue.
 
This is your road.
Only you
will take it. And there's no
turning back.
 
And you haven't marked your road
either.

And the wind smoothes out your tracks
on desolate hills.

-- Olav Hauge

What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments,

but what is woven into the lives of others.

-- Pericles

Astrophysicist Neil DeGrasse Tyson, in answer to a TIME magazine reader, who asked, “What is
the most astounding fact you can share with us about the Universe?” said this:

“When I look up at the night sky and I know that, yes, we are part of this Universe, we are in
this Universe, but perhaps more important than most of those facts is that the Universe is in us. When I reflect on that fact, I look up — many people feel small, because they’re small, the
Universe is big — but I feel big, because my atoms came from those stars. There’s a level of
connectivity — that’s really what you want in life. You want to feel connected, you want to feel
relevant. You want to feel like you’re a participant in the goings on and activities and events
around you. That’s precisely what we are, just by being alive.”

-- Neil DeGrasse Tyson

I lay my head to rest
and in doing so
lay at your feet
the faces I have seen
the voices I have heard
the words I have spoken
the hands I have shaken
the service I have given
the joys I have shared
the sorrows revealed.
I lay them at your feet
and in doing so
lay my head to rest

And You Held Me
and you held me and there were no words
and there was no time and you held me
and there was only wanting and
being held and being filled with wanting
and I was nothing but letting go
and being held
and there were no words and there
needed to be no words
and there was no terror only stillness
and I was wanting nothing and
it was fullness and it was like aching for God
and it was touch and warmth and
darkness and no time and no words and we flowed
and I flowed and I was not empty
and I was given up to the dark and
in the darkness I was not lost
and the wanting was like fullness and I could
hardly hold it and I was held and
you were dark and warm and without time and
without words and you held me.

--J anet Morley

I have opened unto you, the fate of my being
And like a tide, you have flowed into me.
 
All the channels of my spirit and the recesses of my soul
Are grown sweet with your presence
 
You have brought me the calm of great tranquil waters
And the quiet of summer seas
 
Your hands are filled with peace as the Moon tide

Is filled with light
 
About your head is bound the eternal quiet of the stars
And in your heart dwells the gentleness of dusk
 
I am clear and still
 
For I have opened unto you the wide gates of my being
And like a tide, you have flowed into me.
 
-- Adapted with abandon from Eunice Tietjens by Kim Farley

Nights when it’s warm
and no one is watching,
I walk to the edge
of the road and stare
at all the fireflies.
I squint and pretend
they’re hallucinations,
bright made-up waves
of the brain.
I call them,
field bling.
I call them,
fancy creepies.
It’s been a long time
since I’ve wanted to die,
it makes me feel
like taking off
my skin suit
and seeing how
my light flies all
on its own, neon
and bouncy like a
wannabe star.

-- Ada Limon

Don’t just stand there with your hair turning gray,
Soon enough the seas will sink your little island
So while there is still the illusion of time,
Set out for another shore.
No sense packing a bag.
You won’t be able to lift it into your boat.
Give away all your collections.
Take only new seeds and an old stick.
Send out some prayers on the wind before you sail.
Don’t be afraid.
Someone knows you’re coming.
An extra fish has been salted.

-- Mona Santacroce