The sky

Sometimes I just stare at the sky
And wonder what’s out there.
Humans are enclosed in a small bubble we call the atmosphere
But outside of it is a great expanse of space waiting to be explored
To be mapped
To be found.
Somewhere there is someone else
Lying on their back in cool grass
Staring up at their sky
And knowing that there is someone else
But never quite putting their finger on it.
Personally, I think scientists are going in the wrong direction with their theories.
Maybe they don’t want to be found.
But I know the sky has stories and I want to figure them out.