Constellations and Rabbit Holes
Ever since I was a little girl,
I’ve always been fascinated with two things–
two things more than anything else:
stars and rabbits.
When I was in sixth grade,
my Science teacher gave us this homework to read up on heavenly bodies.
Before going home that day,
I dropped by the school library and borrowed this book about constellations.
It had glossy pages and colorful pictures, and I thought it was really very pretty.
That same night, I looked out my window
and tried to draw lines in between the brightest stars.
I formed… I formed… a quadrilateral.
It was so disappointing, but I tried again the next night.
Guess what I found. Two obtuse triangles that were far apart.
The night after that, there were no stars at all.
The book was lying, I thought.
I told myself constellations are too beautiful to be true.
Later in life I figured that just because I don’t see something with my own eyes
means it doesn’t exist.
I learned that it’s best to just believe–
to let Orion be Orion,
and Cassiopeia be Cassiopeia,
to let the stars tell their stories in their designated place.
I have embraced the fact
that what may not be real from where I stand
could be real somewhere else,
just in a different vacuum of time and space.
More often than sometimes, I wonder
what you’re having for breakfast.
Do you like fresh milk with your Koko Krunch?
(Cause I really do.)
What keeps you up until past 12 midnight?
Do you like your coffee strong or decaf?
What makes you cry? What drives you mad?
How do you look like on your worst day? ‘Cause I swear
Even if you think you’ve become a walking, breathing disaster,
I will find you amazing anyway.
I wonder how many hands you’ve held
and how many times we came close
to meeting, but didn’t.
We are both inches and light years away.
You. You remind me of the rabbits I’ve been waiting
to appear out of rabbit holes.
I’m sure they’re not hiding; it just so happens
I keep missing on them.
Would you know if rabbit holes have some sort of a portal to magic shows?
‘Cause I’ve seen lots of rabbits come out of magician’s hats.
Sometimes I think that maybe
I’ve seen what I’ve been waiting for after all.
I just didn’t know it at that time.
Hey, let’s make a deal.
You be whole for you and I’ll be whole for me.
Then let’s pour out ourselves to the rest of humanity.
Let’s touch as many hearts as we can.
So maybe the next time a stranger thanks you for helping,
you will see a familiar grin
‘cause that someone carries my poems with him.
Maybe the next time I celebrate Christmas in an orphanage,
my soul will recognize the sound of your laughter;
somehow I will know that you have been there.
Maybe we’re closer than we think.
But just in case we don’t chance upon each other,
I promise to forgive you.
And I’ll forgive me too.
In case we don’t chance upon each other,
this will remain true:
More than stars and rabbits,
I have loved you.
I have always loved you.