Gaze into the nebula
Feet planted on dirt, outside.
Perhaps urinating in grass that’s nearly knee high,
With the weight of all the summer stars bearing down on you
And the silhouettes of the old oaks, hawthornes, scotch pines, and sugar maples.
Lightning bugs illuminate,
In a collective and proven song.
The same song.
That nebulous song.
The song the whole thing is singing.
The song you see
When you’re staring at the cosmos,
Close eyelids soft,
And see in your own darkness,
That which you see in the splendor.