Our Lives Are Lived by the Way of the Dead

It’s a stretch, but there’s a claim
Some myths came from the first lands
And spread out with all of us.

In those tales, the stream of stars
Was named the Way of the Dead,
And the night was the Sky Hunt.

Could be. The ways of the dead,
The words of the dead, the myths
Of the dead, in stars or not,

Still guide us. What do we know
Of how old, for sure, are those
Thoughts we make from words in us?

Think, with these words, what this means,
If tales of stars as the way
Of our dead are old as us.