Star Gazing

My understanding of things scientific is limited to broad sweeping generalities and just enough factual data to jump to unsupported conclusions. This in no way deters me from devising theories such as the one I have been pondering of late – the nature of the sun.

From what I understand the sun is like a gigantic atomic furnace that throbs and shudders and explodes with a seemingly unceasing and unlimited energy. Granted, sometime in the far, distant future our sun will one day run dry and burn out. Until then, it is the heart of our universe whose rays support life-creating conditions, particularly here on earth.

I have also read that our sun is a star. If we were somehow magically whisked to another galaxy we may see our own sol twinkling in the firmament.

The other day a confluence of these ideas came together in my mind – that our sun is a star, that our sun is the heart of our solar system and that our sun is active and life-giving. I made a leap – of intuition, of understanding, or perhaps misdirection, in keeping with the ancient adage, “As above, so below.”

If the sun is the heart of our solar system, then the heart of our bodies is our own personal sun, and as such is a baby star. In the center of our being, we carry a star that throbs and beats and gives life.

I ask myself is this stretching things too much but I think there is some important truth here.

We are slowly coming to the understanding the earth itself is a living organism and as such has some level of consciousness. Does that not also mean that our sun is also conscious? Is it not acting as the heart of the body of our solar system? And by analogy, does not every cell of our body also contain life and consciousness; is there somewhere buried in the nucleus of a cell an infinitesimal sun that is the furnace of its life?

Does this then mean we are comprised of billions and billions of starlets? Tiny pinpoints of light that shine and blink and throb with life?

Then I considered the theory that when a star dies it can become a black hole that sucks all light back into itself. Some scientists believe that these black holes collapse into white holes creating a torsion field which then give birth to new stars and new solar systems in an infinite series of Big Bangs.

Is this perhaps what happens when we die? Collapse into our selves, and then emerge newborn and vital on the other side?

As I said, my grasp of modern science is slippery at best but I am intrigued by the picture and the possibility that within my heart a star is in residence that conducts a symphony of life throughout my body, lighting each new cell as it is born, thereby passing my own Olympic torch down red corridors.



Each day

Slightly shorter,

Slightly dimmer,

Sliding toward the lip

That will be

The turning point

Back into the sun.

All fires out,

All light extinguished,

All eyes closed,

Waiting for the magic

To begin

While seed is planted

For a new year.

A blind time

When life gropes

In darkness

And burrows through

Earthworm tunnels

To nurseries

Where covers are pulled back

So fragrant seeds

Can rest in loaming beds.





The womb waits

While the star stirs,




High howling flames,

An inferno

Blazing with light.

His heart detonates,

Shoots forth

An arcing arrow,

A space-spearing spark,

Light time

Light speed


One photon

Tips the scale

At the edge

Of the event horizon




Cascades of star light.

Trailing in its wake

Dawn’s rosy finger

Lifts Nut’s heavy skirts,

Opens the Gate

And invites the light

To ignite

The Sacred Hearth

The Sacred Heart

The Holy Place

That waits

While the Son’s sun

Is reborn


And again

And again

In time

In tune

With the cosmic clock.



2011 Winter Solstice, Thursday, December 22, 5:30 UTC