The pattern of stars in the sky above my head –
as I lie on my patio chairs, feeling the evening breeze –
is scattered and twinkly,
but not distinct.
I ask them for an answer.
The lights from planes on their way to
destinations far and wide, flicker
and flirt with the stars,
evidence that another flight took off OK.
I need to know my purpose, why I’m here,
and why I keep messing up my life.
I look to the stars for an answer.
What seems to be a plane
is a star that shines bright,
that is having its moment
in the firmament.
I pray for an answer.
I look away, look back,
The stars in my night sky,
above my patio,
into the shape of a heart.
My heart that I must follow.
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