The Star’s Abode

What became of the star? Its twinkling, its lights, what became of them? Did everything come to an end? It was a flame, naked, dancing in the nights? Cold ashes they scattered on its head. Have its joyful whispers gone silent? Gone silent, its dance has ended — before the eyes — but it has begun, its journey toward the root, toward the hearts. Its fast dance has begun in the vessel of the plant, in the petal, in every leaf; like a star? dancing with all its particles in the marrow of our bones...