For Navya
A moon nearly full stood high in the south, beside Antares — the red heart of the Scorpion. Jupiter was sinking into the west; Saturn was climbing in the east. Every star was exactly here.
Earth
And ever since, the Earth has carried you around the Sun 0 times —
once for every year since that night.
Mercury
In those same years, swift Mercury has raced the Sun 0 times over,
never once holding still.
Venus
and Venus — our morning and evening star — has circled 0 times.
The brightest thing in your sky but one.
Mars
Farther out and slower, Mars has made the long journey 0 times.
A patient, rust-red wanderer.
Jupiter
Vast Jupiter has wandered only twice around — and drifts now through its third.
A whole childhood to each of its years.
Saturn
And Saturn, most patient of all, has rounded the Sun but once.
One slow turn, the whole of your life so far.
The Moon
And the same moon that hung near full that night has circled us 0 times since.
Faithful, and never far.
Everything that can move has been moving —
patient, and certain, for all these years.
Beyond the planets
Carried by the Sun, you have ridden some 240 billion kilometres around the Milky Way — and even now the galaxy has barely begun to turn.
Andromeda, the nearest great galaxy to our own, has drawn about 115 billion kilometres nearer — quietly, all your life, on its way to us.
And the light of the night you were born is already 33 light-years out among the stars — a widening shell of that one moment, still washing outward.
And nearer than any of that —
the Moon has eased about 1.25 metres farther from the Earth, and still has never once let go;
the Sun has risen on you 0 times;
and through every one of those days, your heart has beaten more than a billion times.
And all the while, everything keeps turning —
sun and planet, season and star.
From the day I met you,
my whole universe has only ever revolved around you.
Happy Birthday Navya
Here's to every orbit still to come. — Sandeep