A young friend spoke today
a memory,
when he was lost and alone
in a strange and distant land.
Looking up,
far and away from home,
he saw thousands of stars.
And then, three.
Orion’s belt,
the Hunter,
just like in the sky
of his Georgia home.
Finding Orion,
no longer lost,
he felt safe,
secure,
protected,
and grateful
for the awareness.
His faithful memory
gave me
my own recollections
of finding Orion:
Diamonds hung
on a canyon wall.
That deep southern Utah night
was the first time
(at least that I recall),
but there have been many more
since then.
My first night
in my new Deep South home,
I stepped out
onto my back porch.
I was alone.
In this new place,
nervous and unfamiliar,
I breathed the gathering gloom,
sucked in the dank humors,
and looked heavenward.
There he was,
belt strongly girded,
Orion, the Hunter over me.
“Hello, old friend!” I shouted
and wept for gladness
and relief.
Next,
alone with family,
a celebration
in the South Pacific
with my son
and his new bride.
Late at night,
I waded into Moorea’s
unfamiliar warm waters,
leaned back
and looked up.
Surprise!
Orion the mighty Hunter
was there, but
standing on his head!
I still, again,
waved and shouted:
“Hello, old friend!”
and laughed for joy.
(I hadn’t yet heard
Moana: Aue, aue
Te fenua, te malie
Na heko hakilia,
but when I did,
lost yet not
with my daughter
on our aue way
to a paradise waterfall,
I wept again,
just like now.)
As wisdom from the pulpit spoke,
I realized:
The bearded one
was right.
God is aware.
Always.
And He lets us know.
We might feel lost.
We might forget
who we are,
where we are going,
what we’re about.
But He who is mighty to save
will let us know,
always,
where we are,
always,
who we are,
always,
that we are watched over,
always,
if we look to the Heavens.