Stardust

Ants, unlimited and active,

Are shooting stars

On a moonless night

Darting swiftly across the vast expanse

Without end or rest.

Eagles, attacked by blue jays,

Shake them by ascending

Thermal, hypoxic air

Between this spinning rock

And infinite dark.

I am the ant,

Digging and hauling

Building and seeking

Unaware of my cosmic counterpart.

I am the eagle,

At lower altitudes

Plagued by pecking and scratching

Transmitted through my psyche.

To know my stardust

And to meet it there —

Will deliver me from these daggers

I grasp in fearful hands.