We Are Made of Stars

I saw my breath in front of me, laying in bed this morning. The temperature barely made it above zero today. The rooftops are frosty, cars are frozen up and the pavement is like an ice rink.

I saw a couple of folk struggling into town. Slipping and sliding like some pro level slapstick comedians

It’s the kind of day to snuggle down under the duvet and watch Netflix or read a good book. But if you’re brave, or foolish and venture out then the air is crisp and clean.

The stars are putting on a show, high above this little town.

Thousands of them.

We can wish on a shooting star.

Or a satellite.

Or space junk.

So grab your thermal socks and a good hat. Put on your gloves and let’s go.

Will you hold me as we watch the universe’s light show? Two souls together under the cosmos.

Whenever I feel sad, or blue, or a little lost, I remember:

We are made of stars.

(c) Paul Andrew Sneddon