This has been kicking around for a long time.  Since right after college.  I think I finally got it right.  – Amy 

I tried.  You have no idea.  Every romantic swirl of an idea that came into my head, I assaulted with sharp, angular logic, arguing the notion into submission, and burying myself within my texts until the errant thought was gone. 

I read of the stars, their scorching heat, and the vast distances between them.  These truths defied the fluttering tide of whimsy.  The calculations of Newton, Kepler, Galileo and Brahe were divine, the poetry of the heavens.  The universe keeps a rhythm, the movements of the stars an elaborate waltz.  Through mathematics and diligent observation, I hoped to understand it.

Transfixed by the clarity of science, I lingered in the library until closing time.  Finally, I gathered my books and walked back toward my dormitory.

I strode purposefully – until I chanced to look up.  But confronted by the modest majesty of the universe, the light of a thousand galaxies displayed across the evening sky, and the soft pearl moon, I dropped my texts to run through the fields, heart in the heavens, marvelling at their humble magnificence.

On those nights, the books were wrong!  The stars were not unruly infernos light years away.  They were dancing, merry winks of warmth, hovering playfully just out of reach.  If I jumped high enough, perhaps I could catch one in my hands, like a firefly, and caress its soft warmth to my face.  Those nights galloping in the grass were my happiest moments.

In the morning, however, I wallowed in the facts which by night I found ludicrous.  I balked at my behavior.  Of course I couldn’t catch a star.  Preposterous.  And what was I doing gallivanting around like that, anyway?  The only solution was to knuckle down and get back to facts.  Provables.  Truth.

Eventually, this part of me dominated the other so boldly that I forgot it myself.  After winning my position at this observatory, my nocturnal indiscretions gradually ceased.  Ultimately, I went from rejoicing in the heavens’ wonder to rejoicing in my own recognition for quantifying them. 

Today I observed a newly-discovered star with a shrug.  The technology was exciting.  The process.  Another star?  No.  Just one of billions.  But tonight, at home, something deep within me awoke.

I went to my porch and strained to see the sky.  I gazed up toward where the new star would be if one could see it with the naked eye – and it winked at me!  Just a brief tingle of light, but I saw it, and once again felt that familiar instinct which long ago told me that the stars were close enough to reach, if I only leaped high enough.

My nostrils flared; my knees creaked.  I leaped over the railing into the yard, feet flying over the grass.  Stars flashed and dazzled over the trees.  The heavens were abuzz with light.  I ran to the night-time sky, felt her warm embrace envelop my prodigal soul, and, with the ecstasy of youth, leaped upward.

Copyright 1992, 2004, 2006 Amy Frushour Kelly. All rights reserved. Reproduction verboten unless you ask first.