I have the same wonder for stars as my Mother,
knowing there's one for each
of us
of the stars
we are
She said with each navel God proclaimed
You're done!
with a celebratory twist of her finger
to coil the cord tight
I asked her how did she know it was me,
knowing at the time I was somehow destined
to be her baby, less knowing of the biology
of how such could be so, imagining myself
lost in a sea of babies in bassinets, her face
pressed against a glass trying to find me
And my Mother simply said
You smiled
in my head
are many stars
Chagall 2020
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