Stars, our parents, we residue of stardust.
Grandparents light the Milky Way.
There goes a bloom, a nova.
That big blue one. I think that\'s mine.
Life on the rim, here in scattered space dust
and we starlings, recreated from lost fusion.
The circles in the heavens.
What moves towards Mecca or Bethlehem?
Cosmic expansion.
Death and doppler effect.
Lost voices of stardust.