They're millions of miles round
but are mere sparkly specs amongst the oceanic black abyss.
They're gargantuan ongoing hydrogen bombs
but seem to enhance a chill's sting on a December night, while dazzlingly dangling and displaying their icy dance.
Their light travels to us still even though some have gone supernova long before our father's fathers. Yet, especially during their grand ascension close to the horizon, on a country night in Hillsboro, TX, they appear positioned near enough that one could casually take an air balloon over to them and pluck one like a precious jewel from an Egyptian tomb.
"Contrast" is the ever-composing poem of Mother Nature--one I feel that is never short of...stellar.
From the Soul,
The Eye Wall 