Starlit

You are a starlit thing, galaxies spinning between your fingers. Solar fires burn bright lamps behind the shades of your eyelids. Your breath exhales, a cosmic wind that crosses your lips to stir the turn of faraway planetary bodies. Constellations reach and connect across your secret-keeping flesh, only hinting at the vast and branching multiverse within.

When you are made tired and quiet and small by little minds broadcasting loud from big mouths, remember that there are unmined worlds beneath the skin of you. When your orbit seems solitary and uncrossing the paths of other great objects, and the infinite spaces around you seem empty, think on the many millions of tiny particles crowding between the things you perceive, for they are in you, of you, and they tie you to all things. All is one, and one is all.