Stain Myself With A Story

I want to dig into the earth of the past. I want to get the soil on my hands and see that every grain has a story to tell. I want to wipe the dirt on my shirt, and on my jeans, not to get my hands clean, but rather to stain myself with history. I get comfort from knowing that we stand on the same Earth, and stare toward the same moon. And, although I may never get to share the same sunset with you, I know that we share the same sun. Somewhere far away, I know you are reaching for the same stars that wish me a goodnight. One day I may be caught in the darkness with my hands to the sky. I won't be reaching for those stars, but I will be stretching my arm with the hope of finding your hand. If we ever touch hands, forgive me if my hands are a little dirty. I was probably digging through someones past, hoping to find a story to guide me toward my future.