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A Million Planets

What if stars are actually planets blown up, millions of years ago.
What if they are merely remains of other galaxies,-other living beings. 
Or perhaps they are debris left over travelling at the speed of light toward us.
 What if stars are a warning, the future we cannot see. A mirror of our future, a reflection.
Or maybe stars are beings or alien life that monitor our planet and lives. 
Why do some stars move and others appear stagnant. Are stars the reason or meaning that we aren’t alone. Aren’t planets technically stars which could potentially open up the possibility that every star we see in the sky is actually a planet, somewhere life existed. 
What happens if we wake up from our lives able to breathe among the stars? 
Is that where we go when we die? 
 Could that be why we see a bright light, we actually physically get so close to it that it’s like a flash of lighting, a light beam piercing through your soul. 

Or maybe stars are windows to another world, a peak into a nonsensical dimension. 
Maybe the rocks the float around in the sky and inhabit billions and billions of life, orbiting around the sun are clues that our lives here on Earth are so very small. 

Maybe those planets, though we think are scarce and empty, are actually so advanced and developed, we just aren’t able to see that close or find the life.
 Maybe in our current life form we solely depend on oxygen because our bodies and minds are weak and in a constant cycle called aging.
 Maybe just maybe, aging doesn’t happen in space. Maybe that’s why we can see backwards in time. 

Or perhaps, the stars are a place, of utter chaos.
 Maybe you drift in the abyss of black nothingness until you are consumed and swallowed by a bright flashing light that bursts into flames, erupting from a dying star. Though it’s light years away, each final gasp of air pierces your eyes, blinding you and now among the debris that has floated around for over centuries, you feel the pain, chaos and cycle of aging.
 Perhaps stars and humans do have some things in common, or perhaps we’ll never know.

Copyright © Sarah Casey | Year Posted 2023

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