The stars will remember

At night, it's hard to see the stars. The glow from the city and the streetlights put a damper on the sky that I'm staring deeply into, searching the milky blackness for something sacred, as our ancestors did. Looking within the vast expanse, trying to comprehend that the faint twinkling glow left its origin eons ago, and is just now reaching the atmosphere of my understanding. Within these moments, I am as small as the molecules and atoms that make up the mind which knows all too well that when my life has passed, the only monument to mark my time will be seen within the fading starlight, which left long ago.

Its been a while.....

How terribly droll of me to draw correlations between the ebb and flow of life and the changing of the seasons, but something about the time change and the falling of leaves makes it rather difficult not to notice or just simply feel as if I am in autumn in many different ways.
My grandfather thinks its February; lucky him.