My daughter's constellations

Sleeping in her old room,
I discover on the ceiling
a galaxy from her childhood.

I try to make out the celestial system

of glow-in-the-dark stars,

to guess what she was thinking

when she created her own astronomy.

I thought I saw the constellations

of endangered birds and rainforest frogs

she loved when she was nine,

a flute-playing nymph dancing

near the orb of Chinese paper

that forms her sun.

Beyond that, I can't

discern the pictures in her sky.

Her most private planets

are only visible through

a telescope she took with her,

the lens of her own heart.

I have to be content

with this, and only this...

points of light reaching me now

from her distant past.