Space

Maybe I am a newborn. I look at this world through young eyes; wondering, absorbing, learning, trying. I think The Moon and the Sun were here, shining, before I came; they saw, they experienced, they burned. My soul hasn't been to many places like theirs have, they say, their stars have lit up and faded away many times before mine even flickered for the first time.

And I asked the Moon if the stars say goodbye when they are tired of shining, she told me no. A star lives within the comforting blanket of the night sky; dancing to its own melody, sailing along the Milky Way, staying a while in a constellation to write down the story of existence. But after a while, a star must rest to be strong for another fall, and when it falls it will be beautiful as ever.

And I asked the Sun if a star is alone, she told me no. A star can find another to dance with, to help it shine brighter, to write down a shared verse in the sky. They might pass one another while reaching for different places, meet at a crossroads choosing different paths. But when they meet again, my dear, they will rejoice, as they have been dancing to the same rhythm all along.

And I asked myself if I will remember the song, if I will recognize the landmark along the river, if I will love the story in the skies after I've awoken from my rest; I could not tell. 
 
Whether a star only falls once or time after time, I cannot say. Whether I believe in goodbyes, I am not sure. All I know is that, for now, my journey is all I have. And I do believe that the star is out there, the one that will dance with me until the song ends.