There are nights when I can’t think across the distance of time or space, when I can’t feel beyond my own emptiness. The stars and my grief for my son are so very far apart. And I can’t take either one into my arms.
Sitting in a coffee shop considering the concept that I am the universe and the universe is me. And you are the universe, too. So you and I are connected as well. It’s summer as I write, and my coffee is iced, with just a splash of milk. The sun is giving up for the day and setting; it has done all it can do for one day. And later; the stars will decorate the night sky.