Polaris

Easy to find the brightest
         star in the evening sky—
at the end of the Little

Dipper's handle, or pointing
        in a straight line from the two 
stars on one side of the Big Dipper. 

Early navigators knew this: at the ship's
       prow, their bodies straining forward  
and upward, trying to push the compass

needle north. There are various star-
       gazing apps in our time, and so much 
more light, we call it pollution: these

modern predicaments of excess
       which give us a sense of certainty
—sometimes. At his preschool, 

my grandson says the teacher led
        the class in a guided meditation
and he learned that light gives love.

He sat on the carpet by the window,
         the geometry of dust-speckled rays 
falling on his face and shoulders.

I wasn't there, but I know his mother's 
         heart sped quick as a line toward 
this brightness,  the way starry

bodies circle around the celestial pole.
         Particle or wave, diffracting or expanding
—could we patch a coat with it, unroll it like

a map or billowing sail; gather it in a crystal
         sphere? What we see of light depends
on what we ask of it, and in what ways.