Sirius

During this season, roughly between 11:30 p.m. and midnight, a shimmering dwarf peers through the window closest to my side of the bed. Calling it a “dwarf” hardly does it justice as Sirius, the brightest star in our night sky, shines 25 times brighter than the Sun and boasts double its mass. And it holds some of my most intimate memories and thoughts.

Our first encounter was when Daniela, my cousin, and I were around 8 or 9, picking stars to add to our summer break necklace. After tireless swings into the sky, we’d pause by lying on the grass, simply breathing beneath the vast blanket of universal light. To me, Sirius was an obvious choice; it was always there, shining brightly right at the peak of my swing, impossible to overlook or mistake for another star. I used to slightly tilt my head back and there she was sitting right on the tip of my nose.On the other hand, Dana felt that Vega had more personality, as it is part of what I now know is called “The Summer Triangle”.

In all the longing of my heart, the dramatism that always seems to accompany me, and my ever-changing nature, one thing has remained fixed: my love for the sky and stars. 

I can’t speak for others, but for me, witnessing the sky merge with the oceans or the forests is the most beautiful thing imaginable. It feels more like myself than anything else I’ve ever known. It’s a greater sense of home than any house I’ve ever lived in.
It’s not that it’s unreachable; it’s because I know and feel that I am a part of it. I know that at night, the love in my heart travels there.

I am a Starseed, adrift in a sea of wandering earthlings.