In ancient times, back when I was fifteen,
my father took me to a wilderness
where I saw stars as I had never seen,
filling up the sky and numberless.
The Milky Way, which I had never viewed,
looked like its name suggests, across the sky,
as glare of city lights could not intrude
upon the heavens, from a mountain, high.
The view is one that I would not forget,
and one I hope to see someday again,
for I’ve not seen the heavens like that yet,
no matter where I’ve gone, as I did then.
Since fifteen, I have felt it’s sad we are,
by lights of cities, cut off from the stars.