The stars, her mother once told her
as she cocooned the girl in blankets
and touched her flushed cheeks,
Are the lights in God’s house.
But how does he sleep?
The girl whispered, too-bright
eyes clinging to the night sky.
He doesn’t, said the mother softly.
He never rests. God watches
all the time, to keep you safe.
His love for us keeps him awake.
Oh, she sighed. But then, Oh!
The stars— that star, it went out.
Another! They are turning off--
No, shh. Long fingers run
through sweat-tangled hair.
Oh, the stars--