I feel myself inexplicably reaching for the stars,
The vast eternity that peppers the night sky,
Brightest petals of the celestial wilderness that lies beyond,
Everything has its season,
Theirs is measured in millennia;
Pick apart the petals,
Measure it to your soul – the very essence of your being,
Feel it resonate like a calling,
Draw solace to face the reality:
You are but a bee on a flower of blue,
In a vast garden stretching beyond imagining;
I cannot help but agree with the proposition, therefore:
We were never meant to dwell on this flower alone;
How about you?