Why So Many People Say They Find Perspective in the Stars

The heft of moral neutrality,
Like the weight of a lifeless body,
Feels immense, magnified by its lack

Of participation in the game,
Neither resisting nor assisting,
Neither sacred nor profane. The night—

Which is everything minus this world,
This one planet everything to you—
Won’t ever adjust itself for you.

Small wonder, when you’re craving release
From your species' mad obsession with teams
And your own strong compulsion to judge,

The solemn neutrality of night
Comforts you to lean your gaze against.
Small wonder others have done the same.