When you were young and scared of nothing,
You were enchanted by the moon,
And a field of glowing stars that clung,
To the ceiling of your room,
You drew lines to link their beauty,
Made constellations of your own,
An explorer of the universe,
With your warm bed for a throne,
And you remember one cold evening,
When those stars had lost their light,
How you grabbed your favourite sweater,
And padded out into the night,
And the sight that lay above you,
Made your tiny heart start reeling,
As a sea of glinting starlight danced,
On the worlds now darkened ceiling,
But though the stars strung high above you,
Claimed you were part of it all,
You couldn't stop their large expanse,
From making you feel small,
For despite all of the lines you drew,
The constellations stayed the same,
And every star you made your own,
Already had a name,
But listen young explorer,
For a star's light can be slow,
And the ones you see above you,
Were made a long long ago,
And though the world won't see it,
Until this earth's a lot more worn,
The moment that you saw that sky,
A brand new star was born.
-E. H