March 2021. We lay face-up on ocean sand, three generations of women–one birthed during a world war (1946), the second amidst assassinations and national crises (1968), and the third at the height of the Y2K panic (1999). A writer, a nurse, and a college student, relaxed side-by-side, gazing into the sky, despite a global pandemic still in progress.
Oh, the peace. Silent hearts. Quiet bodies. Salty breezes whispered in the Palmetto trees. A sea-side cadence strolled with the tide while the Atlantic orchestrated crescendos upon the beach.
Above the star gazers, a bevy of beauty bejeweled the sky.
The boomer opened her smart phone, sharing her star app. When her tech-savvy grandchild said, “Cool, Grandma,” the boomer grinned. It felt good to be called “cool.” Mama in the middle similarly enjoyed.
They saw Gemini, Sagittarius, Ursa Major, and Saturn–splendors that have stayed the course for God-only-knows how many years. The boomer pondered how those sparkling lights adorn the heavens and journal the history of the universe. Gratefully, she savored bonding with her offspring underneath their galactic penmanship.
Did her great grandparents hold hands on a sweet, summer-starry night? Had bold immigrant ancestors from Ireland, Sweden, France, and Germany admired the same constellations from ships’ decks in transit to America? How often had family youngsters welcomed evening’s debut with the same nursery poem?
“Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.”
How many of their wishes came true?
Mysteries within mysteries. A myriad of star gazers testify to humanity’s search for wonder and meaning and beauty and hope and amazement and adventure and knowledge and God and soul-soaked rest in a weary world. How lovely to know that wars, crises, panics, and pandemics are small in the scheme of light years’ billions and skies resplendent with glory.
Stars still invite night-birthed poems sung by those who take time to notice, and if we do it with special people we love, even better.
Copyright © Marianne McDonough 2021
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