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