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The ancients used constellations as navigation,
To find a their time, their place, or destination,

I wonder if they looked up at the stars and thought,
At all,
About where their hearts were going,
Instead of their feet,
Did they stare at the stars and whisper;
Tell me universe,
Who are we?
Where do we meet?

The question hangs,
In the air of the night,
What must one do,
To be rid of this fright?

The ships sail on
And the flowers bloom evermore,
And under the rays,
Is hidden a lore,

Curiosity beckons,
And you walk towards it,
And suddenly you realize,
The person who lit up the yard,
Was all along,
Your mother.



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