I saw you tonight for the first time in a while. Standing out in the sky, your tail pointing West and the stars of the spoon making a straight line to Polaris. For the first time in a while, I knew where I was for sure. You were familiar again, in that from-of-old sort of way. Familiar in the way that I don't need to think about you, I just know you. Like when you're reading something in your own language and you don't have to sound out the word, you just know what it says. I didn't have to piece together your stars, you just appeared in that familiar composition and I recognized you without effort. Did you know, that wherever in the world that I am, I always try to find you? You are a tangible piece of evidence that makes my present real.
Months ago I searched to find you, and there you were. Perched on the horizon, upside down, Polaris dropped somewhere off the edge of the cliff of that is the sky. I can easily recognize you in that state now too. I have for a while. I remember the first time I saw you upside down - for literally months you had been just in front of me and I had no idea. On the verge of returning to my home country, there you were... something that links different parts of my world together. You had been there the whole time. If I had saw you there first, I would have thought that you were upside down here, and not there. It's just perception, that's all.
I'm in the city now, and have lost you again. Most of the time, I don't even know that I miss you. I don't even know that I miss me; that part of me that grew up with you in a brilliant starry sky that had little competition from man-made lights, and other parts of me that aren't a part of life here these days. In the place I am now, I just need to believe that you exist. There is scarce evidence downtown. But I can picture you easily, both ways, upside right and upside down (either could be either), because I've seen you both ways. I know you both ways.
When I came to the city I knew I would be giving you up for a while, that my faith would have to be deeper than sight to remember you. And in Africa I knew that too, in subsequent visits to the continent - that I would be seeing you from a different point of view. Yet you bring me comfort and contentment in these places. In a world of change and places and whirlwinds, you make me feel like I'm home. You remind me of Someone I know. And I know that though you were not made just for me, that part of His plan in creating you was to remind me of Him in whose image I am made and whose beauty you reflect. Between clouds and city lights, I won't see you tonight, but someone will. And I will continue on believing that you are there.