On evenings free of clouds and light
One can look upon the sky,
On twinkling stars and silent night
And think of tales the stars belie.
You’ll see Orion, proud and strong,
Bears and dippers, great and small,
A Zodiac twelve members strong,
And not a truth among them all!
Of what are constellations made?
Nature’s lines drawn by the dead,
Sparkling points on Heaven sprayed
And named by man for men misled.
Wives read horoscopes ’til late
As Cygnus and Aquila gleam.
The constellations of their fate
Are closer than they first may seem.
The stars above are heroes past
To marvel at by absent sun,
But we are heroes born at last,
You and I and everyone.
Look not to the stars for love
Or what the future mayhap hide.
Dreams come not from up above
But from the stars we are inside.