I step out with my coffee into a cold November morning. I tilt my head and glance into what seems a motionless universe. Orion stretches his shield over my roof in the south, as he does every autumn and winter. Will he ever let go of his wrath? To the north, the big dipper still tilts and threatens to dump a load of stars between the neighbors oaks, who pose like open curtains to this motionless play. A shooting star flings its last light into my gaze. I never understood how the demise of anything could be someone’s fortune. Silence and darkness become a blank canvas for my thoughts.

“Lord, speak to me.”

My hands fold a little tighter around the warm mug.

In the east, the morning slowly pulls back the star cover. My eyes try to hang on to the flickering, to these whispers of greatness. I realize that with the coming of the sun, the greater display will disappear. Soon, with the onset of the new day, I will have forgotten how big the universe really is.

“And God set them in the expanse of the heavens
to give light on the earth, to rule over the day and over the night,
and to separate the light from the darkness.
And God saw it was good.”
Genesis 1:17-18