The twinkling stars, the glowing moon, our neighboring planets are ever-present in the night sky — and we don’t care. Such magnificence that is freely available if only we’d pause to smell the flowers.

We’ve made life so complex, so hard, so full of suffering — enduring — when bliss can be found in the most uncomplicated things.

One of them being quiet existence in the glow and peace of the night sky.

I caught glimpses of six shooting stars (hey broken parts of comets swimming through the galaxy). Six wishes. 

An indescribable calm embraced me as I am reminded of my triviality to the galaxies, the heavens, to what lies beyond what we can grasp. To the forces we can’t and will never be able to comprehend. 

I find comfort in wishes upon shooting stars, in the belief in something bigger than all of us. Hope that despite things already written in the stars, there are some that we can still will to be.