Tilting Telescopes
I sink my telescope
into dew-heavy grass
and prop it up against
the inky black night
bathed in quiet
swirling with stars.
I'm hungry to map the celestial bodies
that dot the sky.
to chart the constellations
that let me get lost in them.
to see
and be seen.
beside me
you're silent
your own optical instrument
unused.
I've realized it's futile
to bring my telescope to your eyes.
it cannot sharpen wonders into view for you
the same way it does for me.
some stars only appear
when we tilt our eyepieces
so we must adjust our settings
calibrate our lenses
find a shared focus.
right now
we observe different skies.
it can unsettle me
and yet
I still want to sit with you.
to try to change my perspective.
to trust that
I'm not the only one
making sacrifices.
to have gratitude
for the gift of knowing you
existing with you
letting go of the future
letting the present hold us
as we are.
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