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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required We don't see the stars as we once did. We've lost contact now, we live indoors. We've lost the mythology of stars, our ancestors once had. They were glued to the celestial display at night, and the stories and omens it told them. Even when city-dwellers venture out at night, to gaze and peer up at the night-sky of lights, their view is dimmed by city lights, so bright. Perhaps we should get out more at night, and relearn what the ancients knew, and what the stars told them. It makes more sense than what we are told by science much of which is quite frankly beyond belief. In one Australian Aboriginal culture, the Sun is female while the Moon is male. "The Sun is a lovely old lady called Walu Yolngu" She arises each morn and puts on her red ochre this is why the sunrise is red. Then the sun, sets a stringy bark tree on fire and carries it across the sky and giving us daylight, At day's end the sun puts out the flaming stringy bark tree, and it's night till dawn. The Moon is a bad person, called Ngalindi, He is lazy, does nothing around the camp, and becomes big and round and fat, like the full moon. His kin get so angry with his laziness that they chop bits off him off each night. So he gets thinner and thinner in phases. Eventually he dies and disappears completely for three nights in a row. Then, he returns as a new full, fat new moon. His is still, just as lazy, and loses his bits in phases. This is charming, and makes much more sense than what we are told in school. We should get out more at night, with our torches to read the ancient texts. To relearn the lovely ancient stories again. To put the heavenly soul back in the night sky. There's a lot more out at night.
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