I have the map and a framed certificate
proclaiming that a particle of flame
in the Orion Nebulae now bears my name.
My star beckons at his elbow, at the bone,
and though light years away
I can still respond.

I can dare this dream
drawing back his celebrated arm,
and I am there in the pantheon.
No more the prey, but the one
who trusts no prayer to make his mark.
I share his space.

In my hands I hold the proof
that I am larger than my life.
I have joined the wounded, hallowed hunter
shooting from the wide blue hip
of the winter sky,
knowing that he shines.