“Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” and the Creative Journey
Meaning and symbolism run deep in this classic nursery rhyme.
Introduction
Okay - “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” has to be the nursery rhyme G.O.A.T., right? Let’s review:
Short? Check.
Sweet? Check.
Lyrically on point? Check.
Tune so nice they used it twice? Check. (See, “The ABC Song”)
It’s an undisputed classic; and like other classic songs and stories, there’s more here than initially meets the eye – or ear. The rhyme’s five stanzas (though most of us only know the first) abound with simple-yet-stirring imagery which invites closer attention.
Below, I’ll walk through each stanza of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” (henceforth TTLS), highlighting lyrics which strike me as relating to the process of creativity and/or finding oneself.
First Stanza
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.
On the one hand, TTLS is a simple nursery rhyme about a young stargazer’s fascination with a twinkling star in the night sky.
On the other hand, TTLS is a convincing metaphor for the creative journey – or the journey of finding oneself.
We see this right away in the first stanza. The “little star” inspires the stargazer, just as great art, music, or poetry might inspire a person’s own creative stirrings.
Critically – the star’s beauty is not an end in itself. Rather, the star points to, and illuminates, the subtle road we must travel ourselves, through that uncharted territory wherein we might – with hope, faith, and childlike trust – discover our own light and brilliance.
Second Stanza
When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.
The second stanza opens with the “blazing sun” departing - its absence then allowing the little star to twinkle through the night.
Metaphorically speaking, this might signify the temporary “setting” aside of one’s blazing ego – or perhaps one’s fiery intellect – so that the cooler, subtler qualities of sensing, feeling and intuition might have their chance to emerge, shine, and form new constellations of possibilities.
Third Stanza
Then the trav'ller in the dark,
Thanks you for your tiny spark,
He could not see which way to go,
If you did not twinkle so.
In the third stanza, we meet the fourth “character” of the story – the trav’ller in the dark.
To me, this trav’ller represents the person who has begun the creative journey, and now must progress through the inevitable “darkness” of self-doubt. The creative journey (or the journey of finding oneself) can be a lonely one; no doubt most trav’llers will be tempted at some point to abandon the path.
In this mid-night hour, the little star continues to provide hope and guidance – although not easy answers. Kind of like the best parents, teachers and mentors, who guide and support through challenges while wisely restraining themselves from solving the problem for you.
Fourth Stanza
In the dark blue sky you keep,
And often thro' my curtains peep,
For you never shut your eye,
Till the sun is in the sky.
The fourth stanza provides encouragement and reassurance after the “dark” of the third stanza.
The night sky is here referred to as dark blue, perhaps reflecting the journeyer’s newfound ability to “see” deeper into the dark than before. The curtains suggest a personal, contained space – perhaps a library, a studio, or a study in which we can do our deepest work?
The eye suggests that we are seen on this journey, even if it feels like a lonely one at times. And the mention of the sun’s return indicates, perhaps, that our instinctive and intuitive creativity is now ready to be joined with our reasoned and logical refinement; ex. the novella or poem or piece of music written freely, and now skillfully edited into a wonderfully polished final version.
Fifth Stanza
'Tis your bright and tiny spark,
Lights the trav'ller in the dark:
Tho' I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
The closing stanza expresses a sincere truth about the creative journey (and the journey of finding oneself). And that truth is – once you set out on the journey, you are always, to some extent, a trav’ller.
You may never “arrive.” You may never “get there.” You may never “make it.” But in exchange for all this uncertainty, you receive something far more valuable – the realization that wherever you go, whenever and wherever you live, you carry that same “bright and tiny spark” within you.
And once this knowledge fully sinks in (and it may take a lifetime) – you may also reach the conclusion Socrates once reached: “All I know is that I know nothing.”
Or in other words, “Tho' I know not what you are, Twinkle, twinkle, little star.”
Knowledge – like the little star – is not the end goal of our strivings. It is the byproduct of a life spent seeking, exploring, creating, and following one’s dreams with the childlike belief that there is magic and wonder in this world. And that magic is worth our seeking it.
The End
Thanks for spending a few minutes with me!
I recommend reading the full Wikipedia page for “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,” composed in 1806 by Jane Taylor. It was originally titled “The Star.”
Jane Taylor died at just the age of 40, “her mind still ‘teeming with unfulfilled projects.’”