I show her <br />the stars. <br /> <br />'Are they ours? ' <br />she whispers. <br /> <br />'Only if we name them! ' <br />I answer <br /> <br />as the Universe <br />undresses itself <br />before us. <br /> <br />I name the stars <br />for her <br /> <br />making up names <br />for the stars I don't know <br /> <br />...the names of. <br /> <br />'This one is yours...it's a Tilly star! ' <br /> <br />I show her how <br />to hold it <br /> <br />betweeen forefinger <br />& thumb <br /> <br />gently <br />gently <br /> <br />I tell her what <br />constellations are. <br /> <br />Next night <br />the moon finds her <br /> <br />arranging her collections <br />of pebbles shells & stones <br /> <br />(taken from the mouth of rivers <br />taken from the sides of seas 0 <br /> <br />adopting <br />a star's position <br /> <br />mimicking each <br />constellation. <br /> <br />'I want to be able <br />to see them <br />even when <br />I can't see them! ' <br /> <br />All that sunny Sunday <br />her constellation of shell & stone <br /> <br />shone brightly <br />in the noon day sun.<br /><br />Dónall Dempsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/as-above-so-below-for-lyn/
