orion

Late winter night evening walk looking up
Anywhere north of the fortieth parallel,
The hunter stands out bright in the southeastern sky,
The companion of those who watch stars.

The constellations are seasonal markers.
I know only a few. The rest are names.
I cannot see the drama of the zodiac
Circling the horizon like a carousel.

Anthony knew them all and would teach me
If I had the fortitude to stand in the cold night
And learn the ancient way of seeing.
He learned them standing watch out at sea.

For me there is the memory of other winter nights
Alone in the cold, the snow reflecting the dim light,
The young man eager to take life by the horns,
Following Orion moving across the celestial sphere.

Another winter’s end is approaching.
As a boy I knew only the three sisters stars of the belt.
When my first child was born I had learned to see his body.
Now my last child is grown and I see the pattern.

We learn these things if we are paying attention.
Orion was there before anyone named him.
Someone named him before words were written.
He remains a huge animate figure in the mind.

We have learned so much since then of the universe
And yet the primitive imagination is no less real,
Any more than Copernicus made sundials tell time wrong.
The sun and stars do move across our sky, don’t you see?

Something there is in Orion that speaks to me.
I think of those who looked on him so long ago
I think of those who will look on him far in the future.
I am connected by this vision passed through us.