Look at All of Them, as read by Polyhymia

I am Polyhymia, the Muse of Sacred Poetry, and this is the short story called 'Look At All of Them'. Which do you like better, your planetarium or your telescope? My sister had asked this question, peering into my eyes and as usual, I had no answer at hand. I like them both, I said, but she had a ready rebuttal. The problem is she intoned, you can't use them both at the same time. So one is always sitting idle. Somewhat taken aback by this revelation and without thinking I retorted. Oh, yes, I can. and I'll show you! So eager was I to come up with some way on the spot to use them both, I dragged my little telescope under the planetarium dome, and switched on my ancient Spitz planetarium projector at the same time. Stars immediately sprang to life on the dome. But my sister was unimpressed. I like your story she said, but your telescope is useless in here. Oh, no, it's not said I. And I swung it round and pointed it toward a blank spot on the dome off the tail of Leo, which was gleaming in the Spitz projected spring sky. Just look in here, young lady, I said. but I realized I had no plan, no way of winning the argument. I had been stalling for time and time was almost up, I thought ruefully. My sister bent down and peered into the eyepiece of the tiny Spyglass pointed toward the Realm of the Galaxies, or where it was in the real night sky anyway. She murmured something and played with the focus a minute and then let out a gasp. Look at them. Look at all of them she whispered. I thought she might just playing me for a fool though, leading me on by calling my bluff. Nudging her aside however, I was startled to see swimming in the eyepiece innumerable faint, wispy spiral pinwheels, gauzy white ghosts in a dark, blacker than ebony sky. Convinced she had been wrong. my sister kissed me on the cheek, which I hated, and simply said, Okay, so you can use your telescope in the Planetarium after all, and out the door she went. I turned back to the eyepiece to look again. But whatever we had both seen was gone. Now I only saw the smooth dome surface with a few projected out of focus stars. Dumbfounded, I spent several more minutes staring at the old Spitz projector silently beaming out 1000 or more stars. Many years have passed since this odd occurrence under the dome, and it has never been repeated or explained. But I smile to myself when I think back on it. Especially when that night long ago just before I shut off the Spitz light. I will never be sure. It may have just been a momentary power interruption. But I had the distinct impression that just for a split second., the old projector had winked at me.