Sunset

Rising Stars

One sun sets as many emerging suns gradually take her place

“I don’t know where the sun beams end and the star lights begin, it’s all a mystery,” sang Flaming Lip Wayne Coyne (still does on occasion I shouldn’t wonder). I have always found that question to be a brilliant and incredibly apt one.

Now, I don’t know if Coyne came up with that on his very own, though I see no reason why he didn’t, in a stroke of sheer creative genius. He is a bit of one you know. But even if he stole it, it’s a great steal.

Long ago, I once wrote these opening lines to a song: “My childhood sun / is but a star / for they grow that small / when you come this far.” I didn’t steal that.

We have all crossed enormous distances and all our childhood suns are now but stars.

And when our current local star dips beneath our western horizon she leaves a temporary and starless void as the light blue of sky dims to darker and darker to eventually allow our many childhood suns to claim their birthrights and emerge again for us.

It is so easy to forget that each little glitter up there, right now, is indeed some distant being’s sun, each and every one.

Yes, we so easily forget and instead we connect dots in the sky and call them constellations. And we then accord these stationary paint-by-number creatures up there all kinds of magical powers and we pray to them and ask them to guard and guide us and tell us the future but I don’t think they listen or care, but perhaps, now and then, they look our way and wonder whose childhood sun our local star might be.

© Wolfstuff