The children are all tucked in,

Mother's said goodnight,

turned out the light,

 and closed the door.

Almost immediately,

three are asleep.

But the oldest lies awake,

mind working away.

She thinks about storms

and horns

and babies born.

Her brow furrows

as she thinks,

whar have we done?

There's too much death,

suffering,

hunger,

war,

depression,

famine,

for us to be sleeping safe and happy in our comfy beds,

not worrying at all.

She throws off the covers

and creeps to the window,

yanking the curtain away.

The girl whispers her thoughts

to the stars.

If there was one thing stars were good at,

it was listening.

They listened patiently as she shared her

thoughts,

her ideas,

her theories,

her concerns.

When she was through,

they sparkled and winked,

as if they understood.

The girl went back to bed,

satisfied for the moment.