We Are Children of the Light

From star-scatter we came,
cosmic dust in our bones,
singing ancient songs of creation
through DNA strands that remember
when we were pure energy.

Born of supernovas,
we carry their fire in our blood —
each heartbeat an echo
of that first explosive birth,
each breath a whisper
of interstellar winds.

The moon pulls at our waters
like she pulls the tides,
reminding our cells
they once danced in primordial seas.
We are walking oceans,
salt-memory in human form.

When we raise our hands to the sun,
we are merely greeting our ancestor,
acknowledging the light
that grew the food that made our flesh,
that warms the soil where we plant our dreams,
that draws us ever upward like seedlings.

In sacred circles we gather,
recreating the orbits of planets,
our feet marking the earth
with geometric prayers.
Each revolution brings us closer
to understanding our celestial heritage.

We are not separate from the elements —
we are their children,
their consciousness made manifest,
their story still unfolding.
In each spark of inspiration,
we remember our luminous birth.

So dance in the starlight,
sing to the flames,
let your body remember
its first language of light.
For we are children of the cosmos,
making our way home
through infinite night,
carrying lanterns of stardust
in these temporary forms.