Our sky

We look at the night sky, and what we most want to find are invisible lines between stars that other people have fixed, and named, the shape of a hunter or a woman, a house or a crown or an earth animal. And we like best the brightest ones, the ones closest to us. This way the sky is ours: in our image, members graded by their nearness to our own star. On this planet we are all the dust of stars, clots of aggregate miraculously aware and centered in our own selves. We are all stars. But stargazers remember: stars are not all us.