Stars and Grief

2 min readJun 21, 2020
Photo by Matthew Ang from Pexels

We drove upstate to a weekend getaway.
I found a place where they let us bring our dogs.
One of whom had cancer.
Went walking with them deep into the dark,
and looked up to see

Stars like I have never seen them,
and silence.

Mirroring the way darkness vaults
the stars into their true brilliance,
this silence opens up a holy space
for the sound of living things.
Tiny critters moving in the field,
birds shuffling around in their habitats,
wind lolligagging in the trees,
leaves unhinged, surrendered, spiraling down.
I can actually hear that all happening.
It’s humbling. It unwords me.

Suddenly I forget all the thinky clutter in my head
and I am ushered into the world
that my body has always been a part of
the world that is part of my body
that makes up my body
so that it’s no longer ‘me’ and ‘the world’
but just one entity made of
darkness and stars and
me and silence and sounds
and hands typing this message
to you who are also part
of this vast and fathomless entity.




Novelist. Poet. Musician. Buddhist. Quilter. Animal lover. Visible grownup. Hidden child. Secret dancer when all alone. Makes good bread.