When I Stand Beneath The Stars

After “When I Am Among the Trees” by Mary Oliver

When I stand beneath the stars
North, Dog, Scorpio, the Dippers
even Venus and Saturn
they darn my tattered faith
scattered aboard the sky
surely by design.

What has distanced me, I wonder
from edgy protest songs
the heat of coffee house debates
from the certainty of truths?

Above me a star confides
“You and I are but specks
connected by less than spider’s lace,
mysteriously made,
complex yet synced
to harmonize, to light dark corners,
to seek balance for Libra’s weighty scales.”

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