Count the stars, little one.
Do you see the Great Bear etched among them?
The Warrior, there, wielding spear and arrow –
Your father carried both to war.

All for you, little one.

The singers reap their songs of woe,
The High Winds fly their banners.
They will march on, paths carved by twilight,
Bold Heroes of the star-fables.

Do you read their fates, little one?

The skies are cold tonight, stark as gems.
Their stories reign above, if you can count them,
Their lives arranged among the stars.

All for you, little one.

All for you.