Carried Through the Stars

Where are we going?

Do you really want to know?

It’s a cosmic journey
with Love behind the wheel.

How soon will we get there?

Only your heart will ever know.

How fast are we gonna go?

Over a million miles per hour
with everything in tow.

How are we traveling without moving?
I wake beneath a quiet sky.
The ground is firm below.
The walls remain where walls were left.
Nothing seems to go!

Yet every stone is turning.
Every ocean rides a sphere.
Every sphere is falling onward
through an ocean with no shore.

The blood, the spark, the smallest part
all spin beyond your sight.
You call this place unmoving
as it carries you through the night.

Why can’t I feel the motion?
You are moving with it too.

Then what I call my stillness—
is the journey’s point of view.

We are carried through the stars.
We are turning through the dark.
Every name a temporary shelter,
every life a borrowed spark.

With no final map to guide us,
no eternal point above,
we are carried through the stars—
and the only way to steer
is love.

What is this voice that calls itself
the center of it all?

A window looking outward
that mistakes itself for the wall.

What is the body?
A gathering.

What is a life?
A wave.

What is the self?

A story
that the universe once gave
a little time,
a little form,
a way to touch and see—

but every story loses truth
when it says, “This ends with me.”

I need a name.
Then wear one.

I need a place.
Then stand…

Stand up for love!

Every name can be a doorway.
Every name can be a wall.
Every world can feel like everything
until you see it is not all.

We are carried through the stars.
We are turning through the dark.
Every name a temporary shelter,
every life a borrowed spark.

With no final map to guide us,
no eternal point above,
we are carried through the stars—
and the only way to steer
is love.

Love?

Love.

How do we lose our way?

By mistaking ground for stillness,
form for fate,
fear for wisdom,
walls for strength.

What compass works
where there is no north?

Love!

What language crosses
every form?

Love!

What survives
when names are gone?

The way you held another life
without requiring it
to become your own.

The note does not stop sounding
when it recognizes the song.

What do I own?
Nothing.

Not this body?
Borrowed matter.

Not this moment?
Borrowed time.

Not the ones I love?

Never owned—
only met
along the way.

And when the form must go?
Let it go with grace.

And when I fear I’m nothing?

Remember:

You were never only
what was passing through.

We are carried through the stars.
We are turning through the dark.
Every name a temporary shelter,
every life a borrowed spark.

No existence stands alone here.
We are waves within one heart.
Let our names help us to meet here,
but never build a wall.

With no final map to guide us,
no eternal point above,
we are carried through the stars—
and the only way to steer
is love.

Love?

Love.

Where are we going?
Onward.

What are we holding?
Nothing.

What are we part of?
Everything.

And how shall we travel?

With love.
With love.
With love.
With love.
With love.
With love.