Magical moments…
I stood on the dank grass
And looked up
Into the black night -
The stars seemed alive -
They seemed to sparkle
More than I’d seen before -
It was a magical moment,
And as I stood on this
Sacred ground
It seemed so fitting
That I should sing, softly,
“Twinkle, twinkle little star…”
How I wonder what you are -
And so I do -
Great balls of fire
Yet we sing about their littleness!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky!
The sky bejewelled
For us,
A gift.
And as I sang,
My breath circled
Like chimney smoke
In the brisk air.
Thanks to the dog, we’re getting out into the garden a lot more now. I quite like doing the last one before bed. I put on my boots and coat and step out into the cold night air. I often walk to the back of the garden. Last night the air was clear and crisp. I looked up into the night sky and was struck by the twinkling stars. Surely they were sparkling more than I had ever seen before?! I scanned the sky and each one I spotted was dancing in its place in the same mischievous way. It felt right to sing softly, under my breath, the nursery rhyme, “Twinkle twinkle little star,” its verses resonating more like a hymn, as if I were singing about something sacred, which of course I was. And each time my voice spoke out, my breath was like little wafts of chimney smoke in the winter air. “How I wonder what you are.” So true! How little these magnificent balls of gas and fire appear. How terrible they are, and how sweet to my eyes here in the garden, millions of light years away. Standing on the dank grass on a cold January night, I wonder at the glistening stars, the bejewelled sky and the God who gifts them to me.
Genevieve is a freelance writer and Professional Doctorate candidate at the Margaret Beaufort Institute of Theology, where she is researching a robust theology of body literacy and Christian spirituality. She enjoys running, writing and Russian-style ballet.