Who am I to demand anything of the stars?

Who am I to demand anything of the stars?  

A blue and black lilac sky greets me and I exhale for the first time all day. Inky silhouettes of trees call me back, call me home.  

Who am I to demand anything of anyone?  

The first star peaks out and I greet their warm presence   By making a wish, by making demands.   Not exalting in the beauty of light but holding my hand out high.  

I ask and hope to receive.  

So much of my time is spending grasping, yearning for more.   Feeling content and satisfied is as unheard of as waking up rested.  

I am replete and unreplenished.  

Spent and empty, I hug myself under the almost full moon and hope.  Wishing the next moon cycle to be kinder.  Hoping for the harvest but knowing the dark night of the soul has yet to come.  

Peering into the forest, my feet move slowly towards the trees.  Leaves crunch and the wind whispers through the the empty branches.  Stepping ever closer into the brown landscape squirrels dart and crows caw. In jubilance or defiance, I am unsure.  

Sinking into the once green abyss, I disappear.