“Tell me the story about how the sun loved the moon so much he died every night to let her breathe.” ” There once was a moon, as beautiful as can be, only the stars could fathom, but the sun could not see. The sun so radiant, he burns so bright.
Transcendentalism is based on personal experience, everyone needs to trust their intuition. Even though we all look at the same "stars", we interpret things differently and they effect us differently as well.
"I like storms." December said softly, looking up past the rain into the sky. "They let me know that even the sky, screams sometimes. And if something as big and vast as the sky screams, then it's alright for me to.