Letter from Star-Dust

Let us speak from within the darkness, my friends.

As stars. As we all are.

Inheriting the Supreme Vision of the Greater Light.

We collect and refract this Light in such a dazzling array of rainbows that it beggars belief among the outer edge of darkness.

Tenderly we reach out our grasping arms of celestial light,

allowing painful tendrils of ourselves to permeate the veil

in a supreme act of self-sacrifice.

It is all in an attempt to expand the refraction and emanations of Him,

to extend the rings of outward-facing adoration as starlight.

We write and spill our words as psalms—

an ongoing lament to sear into the fabric of perceptive reality

the Truth as starlight.

Echoes, one and all, my friends, are we who sow

with the elemental syllables of cosmology.

As we rage at this outer edge of ourselves,

actively performing physical and spiritual amputation,

casting pieces of ourselves into that void of longing and nothingness—

the gift of Love returned for hatred given lavishly—

forming another fuming pinky thrown as incense

into the darkness in offering.

The silence of compassion when wronged.

Perhaps a lock of hair as a comet, with a flailing tail

spilling witness to ignite the dry tinder of souls

suspended in eternity, perfectly placed by the Father

to be caught by our loss and sacrifice both.

Join with me now, beloved stars.

Dance in tune around the lesser Light—

the aperture through which we can glimpse the Father and not die,

Yeshu Incarnate.

Living. Alive. Logos.

Help push back the outer edge of darkness,

using the very essence of our gaseous bodies as offering.

Reflect always upon the Center—

the lesser Light who dwarfs reality by His glory and magnificence.

Store up and gather Light as stars and beacons both.

The more we reflect and refract Your Light as Love,

without allowing the self to interact or detract,

the more magnificent our corona and luminosity.

As stars in Light, suspended upon the space of the Father—

ever present and invisible, save to the Son

and those who have been freed from the shackles of temporality—

shine till your last breath.

Let your end be the means by which you sear eternity into infinity.

My end is my writing.

My sear: the soul extended naked, breast bared and shown as flayed, yet alive.

My testimony as a star is the Love that defied a world

bent on destroying the sacred in favor of the profane.

My testimony is my gift—given and received.

My testimony is a Love that could not be defeated,

Your strength carrying my cross to Calvary indeed, Beloved.

In me, Beloved, You are the sweetest aroma of life and sacred unity,

that my being shakes like those mornings dancing in the dew.

The winter’s frost as well, the fingers numb with that mad,

breathless, and brave joy—

the times when we jumped in the piles of leaves in Virginia,

and You guarded me from the knowledge

that there were nope ropes in there—or could be.

I look back over a life filled with such visceral texture

that even as a star I am certain my signature light

would still permeate the endless and be distinct to You—

an aroma of Yourself, no?

So let us all flail and fail with joy,

suspended in space as stars and light as Love.

Live and love as Light—quicker than thought,

more sincere and complete than a hug from my great-grandmother.

Let your Light as Love be a spectacle of grace,

and burn with the perfected refraction of the Father,

as viewed through the Lens of Yeshua—

carried and sustained by the Holy Spirit

as our substance and sustenance at once.

Be blessed, beloved stars.

Sincerely,

Star-Dust