Old bones

That was the way of stars. They formed from dust and they burned. If a miracle happened they became alive. Then they enjoyed a glorious period of flourishing. Then they were seen, they were loved. And slowly their fire died down, and they fell to dust once more. From that dust new stars could form, and perhaps new life.

When the story was over, they looked at the ball with new eyes. Bleached and weathered, a remnant of what was once alive.  A disintegrating shell, slowly to disperse, and to start a new cycle.

An image of their own future.

Photo by Julia: this week’s prompt in the 100wcgu.

Published by

Delft

I like blue.

20 thoughts on “Old bones”

  1. A lovely poetic touch to this one, Delft. I particularly like the line, “…they were seen, they were loved.” It reminds me of an Eskimo saying, “Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through…” Like music and math, it seems that interpretation of the stars, the moon, is a universal language. I enjoyed looking at the ball with new eyes too!

  2. very poetic. must admit that your title caught my attention because it sounded like a topic for us seniors…i’m comprised of “old bones”…and they ache more and more as time passes. does that mean i’m a…disintegrating star? 😆

    1. We’ll all be a disintegrating star…in a billion years or so. Thanks for dropping by.
      If you’re looking for senior writers or topics, why not check out Julia’s place and the participants in her 100 word challenge? Quite a few of them often write about senior topics in their stories and blogs.

      1. thanks for the tip…will take a peek-a-boo at what Julia and her senior friends are doing…they might give me some sound advice about aging…gracefully… 😉

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