Something about this poem, The Old Astronomer to His Pupil resonates with me. One of the few fond memories i have of my father was laying under the stars searching for constellations. Orion, the big dipper, Leo, Aquarius, like ancient glowing monuments cast into the dark. He told me about the north star, and how it guided sailors on their journey. Perhaps that’s where my love of the night sky comes from. I learned from an early age that there’s nothing to fear, even in darkness there is beauty and purpose. Even though my soul waits in darkness, i know the dawn will come again.