If You Look Skyward

I have heard that beauty is in symmetry,
but I do not think that that is always the case

the night sky is speckled in
an infinite number of uneven patterns
and yet people look at it and
pick out these misshapen configurations and
they call them constellations and
say how wonderful it is that we can
all share such a thing

and sometimes even at the darkest of hours
people look heavenward and pray
for forgiveness or for salvation and
often they speak these things to the stars,
who are already dying in their chaotic states,
and whose light has taken so, so long to reach us
from where we stand on this inexplicable plane
of dirt, death, and humanity

and isn't strange
how in all this pain and misdirection
that there is also such unmistakable beauty?

and how we covet it,
define it, and defile it
with our greedy and lackluster hands

and isn't it strange?
how we say that beauty is in symmetry

when really nothing at all about us is symmetric