hey everyone, this is a poem i heard on a bootleg String Cheese Incident cd. It is by tim mayer and was read by ben taylor. I thought it was a beautiful poem so i thought i would share. Perhaps you have heard it before. . . . WHAT DO YOU MAKE OF THE STARS Written by Tim Mayor; Read by Ben Taylor ("Dedicated to all the children here tonight.") Would you look at the number of stars out tonight, I can't think when I've ever seen starlight so bright. You can see why they say it's romantic, all right; All those men with Flamenco guitars. Can you find what your ancestors pictured up there? Can you pick out the archer, the dog and the bear? Do you know that the starlight is crowning your hair with the wealth of the last of the Czars? I don't know how much stargazing's ever been worth. I don't know that the heavens acknowledge the Earth, But it seems like a star did a dance at your birth. Tell me, what do you make of the stars? Do you dream of a day when a rocket appears, And you scramble aboard and discover the gears And the next thing you know you're a thousand light years From this strange little planet of ours? And you look out the window, and what do you see? Is it anything like what you thought it would be? They say, "traveling is broadening", don&Mac226;t you agree? Tell me, what do you make of the stars? If you go, I should warn you that somewhere in space There's a great big black hole with a scowl on its face, And it's eating the stars at a furious pace, Just like you go through chocolate bars. I don't want you to worry, but what would you say If you woke up some otherwise wonderful day And were told that a Black Hole was headed YOUR way Tell me, what do you make of the stars? When we're young we like anything fiery and bright Like the Fourth of July or a Christmas tree light. We strike big kitchen matches, although it's not right, And stick glow-worms in mayonnaise jars. But someday we'll grow older, as most people do, We'll look up at the sky and the stars and they're no longer new. So we'll have to ask somebody little, like you, Tell me, what do you make of the stars?