That night I remember with vivid clarity you and I in Kauai gazing up at millions of crystal clear stars
so close we felt as if we could touch them.
My mother, rest her soul had died the month before
Our grief was as new as a fresh bloomed rose weeping with dew
Salty tears welled, sliding from our eyes falling
into the soft white sand where we lay.
We held hands as memories washed over us with each lapping wave
and in remembrance we weeped,
feeling so insignificant in this vastness sweeping across our eyes
a shimmering blanket at once blinding and beautiful.
We felt her there, soaring among those stars, looking down on us
a powerful sense of her presence a gift, her voice from beyond
saying—you are right where you should be as am I, don’t cry.
Rather, see my face with each full moon in the star drenched sky
and feel my arms surround you for I am with you always.
©2019 Linda Lee Lyberg
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads: Late Night Conversations with the Muse