New Constellation

Dreams and weather stitched. Public harmony restored.

Signed,
The Sisters (All Six)

New Constellations

The Cancer Sisters' Constellation

They dance upon the sky in veils of blue,
Three silent threads that stitch the moonlit seam.
With salt upon their brows and hearts half true,
They weave the tides between a wish and dream.

Their cradle curves with hush of lullaby,
A rustling shell, the sea’s old secret song.
They know the nights when even stars will cry-
And hold the dark where softer hopes belong.

The Snake Sisters' Constellation

Three serpent trails entwine through midnight's breath,
With glinting eyes that mark the turning years.
They whisper truths in riddled tones of death,
And drink the ink from hidden village fears.

Beneath their gaze, the ivy never sleeps-
They move like wind beneath a chapel floor.
Each vow they bite, the deeper silence keeps,
Till legends coil through cracks in cottage door

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Under Lough Owel Chronicle

Orla Draws the Constellation

Filed under: Found Observations -- Orla Merrin’s Notebook, Page 27a

It happened the night after the sky came back.

Everyone else went to bed feeling ordinary again, but I stayed up. There was something left over -- a shimmer on the edge of the air, like when you see a reflection but there’s no glass.

So I tiptoed outside with my crayons and the back of an old bread wrapper.

The stars had changed.

Above the chapel, six lights blinked in a crooked circle. Not a perfect one -- more like the path you walk when someone calls your name and you forget where you were going. I could hear them. Not loud. Just a soft bell note. It was like they were waiting to be noticed.

I drew what I saw.

Three stars curled like commas -- I think those were the Snake Sisters. They moved slow and careful, and one had a thread that went behind the others and then forward again.

The other three looked like little hearts or teacups. Definitely the Cancer Sisters. One was bossy, one was humming, and one was halfway through knitting a star.

Together they made a shape I didn’t have a name for. So I made one up.

“The Seam and the Spoon."

I left the drawing under the chapel door. Someone pinned it on the notice board the next morning with a paperclip and a daisy.