Starry Illusion

Sometimes when I look at the stars,
I wonder whether they see me.
And if they can,
does their heart sing and dance
like mine when I see them?

Mind tells me to grow up.
“They are too big for you.”
But the heart says they are too small,
"See, I can crush them
between my fingertips."

Mind says they may not even exist;
they’re just the play of light,
for what you see is light years past.
But heart objects, for it can see
the stars with its own eyes.

I had a choice to believe
either in the starless night
or the twinkling sky,
the unlimited nothingness
or the glittering spark.

I chose the latter.
For it gave me company
in the lonely night.
For the illusion was well lit,

while reality was way too dark.