Those cold November nights, so long ago,
My family would walk outside to hear
My family would walk outside to hear
The wild geese calling softly overhead—
Unseen formations in the black,
transparent air.
And, guessing at origins and
destinations,
My elders would conjecture how
The geese knew when to go, and
where . . . then stay
To name faint constellations: the Great
Bear,
And slant Orion’s Belt and fire-tipped Bow,
And Cassiopeia’s tilted starry Chair.
I didn’t know, back then, as now I do,
There was, there is, no husbandry in
heaven.
Their lights are all on, but nobody’s
home.
These days I turn to you, who wouldn’t
know
The North Star from red Mars or Venus
trembling near the moon—
Whose deep interior constellations I
can’t see,
But know are there—And you are always
home.
You are home.
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Night_stars_berlin.png
http://eros-porn.tumblr.com/ for 25 June 2014 from http://chiyomatsu.tumblr.com/post/89853811948
http://rainbowcoloredsouth.blogspot.com/2014/01/good-night-sweet-dreams_2.html?zx=25dda803072296df
