extraterrestrial-mykala-gray

my hometown is my hearthstone, the nursery to everything that’s shaped me. 

like a timberwolf running free in a field of poppies at full speed, nothing but it and the ground at its feet and the wind through its fur; it runs, it explores, but it always comes back home- to the forest that made it. just like how the red planet orbits at its own pace, but will align with us again- all a part of the same great vast Milky Way. 

and on that red planet, I wonder about their hearthstones. 

I wonder if wisteria grows in their hometown- or maybe something else entirely drapes over trellis’ and hangs over doorways. 

something that blossoms specifically for their air in their extraterrestrial hometown. 

do they still wander, but always come home? 

do they blush at each other and remember each other’s coffee orders, or hold the door for each other or chase a stranger to return the wallet they dropped? 

do they kiss each other under full moons or braid promises into one another’s hair? 

or do they see a green flash in the sky and think of us, light years away and wonder if we do the small things that they do? 

if so, I wonder how they tell each other they love them without using words and I wonder what little tells they notice about one another. 

I wonder how they look at someone and know they’re the one and I wonder what small things they do when they think no one’s watching. 

I wonder if they have parties for their dog’s birthday or throw festivals dedicated to fruits or moon phases. do they mourn death in a small stuffy room, all dressed in black and sorrow or do they take to the streets and celebrate life with music and color and memories kept alive? 

and do they ever stare at the stars and wonder the same? 

the universe is vast and great and mysterious in so many ways, but I guarantee the things out there share one thing in common with the things around here- home. 

dreaming.