Why the Stars Shine

Why the Stars Shine

By: Joy Ortiz

The sun was lonely out in space.

Suspended in the dark

He burned with fire wild and bright. 

He remembered early days

When he was young and free;

Just a floating mass of dust and gas;

A nebula among many

Stretched out in the arms of the galaxy. 

Unformed. 

One day, unexpectedly,

His center collapsed. 

Gravity entered his life,

Pulling him inward;

Curling him into a ball.

He was forever changed. 

Slowly spinning,

Trying to cool down,

He sent out weak waves of radiation.

With radio waves he tried to say,

"Something terrible has happened.

I used to be a cloud.  

Can anyone hear me?

I am afraid."

Neighbor supernovas shone

Brilliant and blinding,

Dazzling the little ball. 

Their huge voices

Hit him like shock waves:

"Be like us. 

Do as we say, and one day,

If you are good enough,

If you know all of the answers,

You will be a star like us."

Nearby stars buffeted him with 

The hot gas of their agreement. 

The ball didn't even want to be a star. 

He had been perfectly happy 

As a cloud of dust,

But that part of his life was over. 

What was left for him?

He certainly wanted answers. 

"We will tell you!" cried the stars. 

Their voices washed over him in waves. 

Under the combined influence of the surrounding stars,

He collapsed for the second time. 

Within his crumpled center

Pressure began to build. 

His temperature rose. 

Faster and faster he spun,

Gravity holding him together,

And pressure longing to burst out. 

Gradually, as he whirled,

A central core began to form. 

The rest of him was flung out

Into a disc of dust. 

His new form experienced friction,

Causing him to begin to glow. 

Hotter and hotter he grew. 

He reached 27 billion degrees Fahrenheit. 

That was when his core exploded.

Brilliantly he burst into flame

As his hydrogen turned to helium and energy. 

He was a newborn star. 

So young, so full of energy,

He sent out intense jets of radiation,

Causing surrounding matter to glow. 

His magnetic field 

Sent his starry influence 

Rocketing at 500,000 miles per hour

Trillions of miles into space. 

He was glorious. 

He was the Sun. 

Gradually the Sun began to stabilize.

He noticed things orbiting around him. 

His gravity had attracted certain spheres. 

They came regularly. 

Some were closer to him than others,

But even the farthest ones kept coming back. 

The Sun reached out with rays of light

To see what difference he could make in the various worlds. 

Some were burned or barren. 

Others swirled with beautiful gas clouds,

Reminding him of the nebula he had once been. 

Some were icy and distant. 

Most mimicked him

And had at least one moon

As a companion,

Pulling their satellites around them

Just as he pulled each planet

In his solar system. 

He surveyed these worlds,

Products of his explosive transformation,

Born of his violent past. 

They were beautiful. 

Each was unique. 

Something brought the Sun

Out of his nostalgia. 

From far, far away,

The Sun heard a tiny voice. 

"Where are you, Mr. Sun?

I can't see you. 

The clouds are in the way."

It was a little girl on his third planet. 

"I didn't know there were clouds hiding me, little one," he replied. 

"Oh yes," she replied, "They have been there for quite awhile.

Is anything wrong?"

Wrong?

How could he answer a question 

So small and immense at the same time?

The clouds of which she spoke

Were a piece of her world, not his. 

Yet he wanted to be honest. 

"Child," he replied,

"I am very lonely."

"Why are you lonely?" she asked

With large, concerned eyes.

How could she possibly comprehend 

How it felt

To be a star?

"Well," said the sun,

"I am here out in space,

But no other stars are with me."

The girl looked puzzled. 

"But the heavens are covered with stars," she said. 

"Well yes," admitted the Sun,

"But they are all far, far away 

From where I am.

The closest ones

Are much bigger than me. 

I feel their energy. 

It comes in waves 

That pass over me,

But those stars don't burn

With the same fire

That I do. 

"Doesn't each one have its own fire?" asked the child. 

"Yes," said the Sun,

"But they seem so different from mine."

"Aren't all stars born from dust and gas?" inquired the child. 

"Yes," said the Sun. 

"And isn't it some sort of collapse that causes you to change?"

"Yes," said the sun. 

"And doesn't the force

Thrown from other stars 

Transform you?"

"Yes," said the sun. 

"And doesn't friction and heat 

Ignite you?"

"Yes," said the Sun. 

"Well," said the child,

"What's so different about that?"

In the silence of the heavens,

The Sun began to weep. 

For the first time,

As he gazed into the universe,

He saw. 

"Oh, and Mr. Sun?" 

The girl's voice seemed farther away. 

"Thank you for making my flowers grow."

Birth of a Hazel Tree

Birth of a Hazel Tree

It was night when I felt you stirring

In my womb of earth. 

Awakening, sending forth

The first tremors of change,

You pressed against the dirt. 

I opened my eyes in the dark. 

Was it you?

I had been wrong before. 

Again, you moved within me. 

Could it be?

The ground began to pulse,

Responding to your tiny touch

With living ripples and waves. 

My whole being joyfully cried,

"It is time!"

My hazel seed, on the final day,

Was ready to transform.

She was coming at last. 

The tremors grew as dawn approached. 

Restless and excited,

I could not sleep. 

With busy hands I put the world in order

To make ready for you.

In the next room your father slept.

I knew he would need 

All of his strength

To sustain us during your birth. 

With the sun he rose,

Warm and comforting,

To accompany me in my joyous wait

For you. 

Together

We watched the ground rise and fall,

Timing every wave. 

We ventured forth

To test the soil. 

Would it yield to your tender shoot?

We found it ready. 

Patient rain made hard clods soft,

Breaking them; leaving earth

Fertile and smooth. 

Gentle hands stirred and tilled the dirt above you. 

With every pulse of the ground 

You told us,

"I am coming."

The sun crept across the sky

As morning turned into noon. 

I paced in my dark and quiet house,

Leaning on door jams, bookshelves,

And countertops

While you rocked my frame. 

You grew insistent,

And I laid down to rest. 

At last I knew

It was time to go. 

Your daddy drove us

To the birthing place. 

I carried you, rocking and shuddering,

Up to a darkened room. 

You and I laid down on a snow white bed

And rested. 

Helpful hands tended us. 

Your heartbeat and mine sang together,

"We are well."

We arose from the bed and labored,

Kneeling, sitting, bouncing, crouching; pacing.

We shook together. 

Suspended and carried, 

You turned within me

Into just the right place. 

While the waves rocked us,

Your daddy held us. 

Together we groaned

Deep sounds of making

Like the earth being born;

Like trees bending beneath

Wind and storm. 

But I was not afraid. 

We rested secure;

Heavy in strong arms. 

Again I grew tired

And laid down to rest.

Groaning, stretched out on the snow,

I closed my eyes. 

In the darkness, I felt a pop. 

You rushed toward the surface. 

"She is here. I have to push."

Then we were rocked by a sudden storm. 

Every part of me cried out 

As I strained to bring you forth. 

When the first wave passed,

I shuddered and wept

As gentle hands smoothed my hair

And soft voices consoled me. 

Another wave arose and broke. 

I curled up, screaming with the wind,

And pushed again.  

And again. 

And again, the wave passed away. 

You were so close to the surface. 

The top of your head

Peeked through the soil. 

Excited voices told me

They could see you. 

You were on the cusp of being.

Another wave shook the ground.

With earth-shattering force,

The wind and I

Became one

Calling you out of the depths. 

As the wave began to recede,

A distant voice cried,

"One more push, and she's out!"

In the swirling storm 

The earth and I

Heaved with unfettered violence. 

I, the wind, screamed with all that was within me,

And you burst from the ground

And into your father's hands. 

Your first cries floated into

A quiet room

For the storm had dissipated with your arrival. 

Rooted in patience, labor, and love,

Your new shoot unfurled,

Tender and green with life. 

I cradled you close,

You who grew within me,

And welcomed you to the world. 

The wait was over. 

The sun shone down 

On a precious, perfect

Hazel tree. 

To the Beachcomber

To the Beachcomber

By: Joy Ortiz

I've traveled far 

From where I was;

Made tracks that stretch backward 

Like sunset-lengthened shadows.

I've grown and become

Wiser;

Stronger;

Tender.

I've ventured out of my shell.

But tonight I feel naked

Instead of free. 

Exposed and soft,

Weak and raw,

I lie on sand. 

Will you find me

Gasping for life;

Longing for home?

Stranded on the shore,

I'm panting;

Withering 

In this foreign air;

Baking under glaring sun. 

Oh that a knowing hand would 

Lift me up

And fling me far out to sea. 

Then I could sink beneath 

Saving waves

Settle to the sandy bottom,

And continue my search

For beauty, growth,

And the next size in shells. 

Do you see me lying here?

Will you pick me up 

Or pass me by?

Lift me from this lonely strand

So I might live.