The Heavens

(I wrote this sitting outside my tent in Base Camp at Philmont. I have never seen more stars than I saw that summer. Walking at night makes you so inspired; this was the outcome.)

The Heavens.
Simple beauty.
What is so fascinating about white specks on a black canvass?
Dreams.
Hope.
Infinite.
The dance of the sparkling stars is
The tale of all the men that gazed Before me.
Dreams.
Hopes.
All the cries to loved one are in the Celestial Art.
How does it take my breath away?
Why do I long to be a part of it?
I am already apart of those bodies.
All my life is in there.
Dreams.
Hopes.
The heavens have no time.
What can touch the heavens?
What can harm the serene beauty?
Since the dawn of man
Nothing has changed.
I look at the night sky
Just as they did years ago.
Full of
Dreams.
Hopes.
As I stare at the multitude I understand others
Will look and see all of their
Dreams.
Hopes.
It doesn't matter about their
Age,
Race,
Sex,
Beliefs.
The stars will always be there,
But I won't.