Introduction to Astrology

It’s because of the planets and stars,
she explains to me, their arrangement
in the sky at the exact moment of my birth,
that I am me, their unique swirl of gravities

responsible for the shape of my longings. 
Pagan nonsense, my father would say, 
as would the long line of fathers before him,
each now dissolved to the dust at our feet.

Our God created the heavens, a speckled spread
of suns reaching across an infinite horizon,
to display like paintings in a gallery, cosmic
artwork high above the grasp of our dirty fingers. 

But why should such glory be wasted?
Why shouldn’t the stars pull at our bodies,
tugging our atoms apart ever so slightly
until we are constellations on this earth?

And why shouldn’t they reclaim us at death,
drawing the wisdom of our stardust
into themselves so they can burn ever
stronger for the children who come next?