My Son Among the Stars

 

Each evening, as the amber daylight fades

And twilight wraps the lonely hills in gray,

I lift my eyes toward heaven’s quiet shores

To search the silver stars that light the way.

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For somewhere in that vast, uncharted sea,

Beyond the reach of earthly grief and pain,

My son’s sweet soul has found its gentle rest,

Far past the heavy clouds and biting rain.

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I still recall the tenderness he wore

While cradling his own beloved child;

The warmth within his soft, devoted eyes

Outshone the midday sun, so bright and mild.

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His laughter used to fill our humble home

Like springtime birds among the budded trees-

A vibrant melody that danced through life

As softly as a breathless summer breeze.

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But speed arrived, a sudden, ruthless storm,

With roaring wheels and reckless, blinding flight;

A racing shadow on a fractured road,

A flash of steel-then vanished from my sight.

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I learned that speed can paralyze the heart,

A dark deception masquerading as light;

For light reveals the sacred path ahead,

While speed obliterates our mortal sight.

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Like a lone comet burning through the black,

Too beautiful, too wild, and far too fast,

It left a brilliant trail of shattered dreams

And turned a living moment to the past.

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The phantom call arrived; the world stood still.

The sky grew heavy, hollow, cold, and bare.

No human words could reach the bleeding place

That sudden sorrow carved so deeply there.

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For countless bitter nights I wept alone,

Like winter rains upon a friendless sea;

My tears fell silently to frozen earth,

Yet brought no healing answer back to me.

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Then on a quiet dawn, my grandchild came

And looked at me with wide, unchanging eyes;

And in that gaze, I saw my boy reborn-

A living grace beneath these changing skies.

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The familiar curve of smile, the warmth he gave,

The kindness in his small, untroubled gaze-

Like sudden sunlight breaking through the mist,

He carried fragments of forgotten days.

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Now when the first celestial lights appear,

I feel my son’s devotion shining through;

Not lost forever in the deep abyss,

But changed into a spirit pure and true.

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I speak to him across the velvet night:

"My child, I miss you with each breath I take.

No mother’s fragile heart was ever made

To bear this distance and the quiet ache."

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Yet deep within the sanctuary of dark,

A holy, healing peace begins to start;

For the same Hand that hung the distant stars

Now gently holds the pieces of my heart.

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And when I see one solitary gold

Burn softly in the midnight's deepest blue,

I smile to think my son is resting there,

Watching his child on earth, as I do.

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Until the day my own long journey ends,

I’ll safely carry both this grief and love:

One hand entwined within my grandchild’s hand,

One reaching toward the starlight up above.

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For though the road has stolen him from me,

And though my tears will still unbidden fall,

The sacred bond of mother and of son

Has never left, and cannot fade at all.

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So every night I lift my weary eyes

To that bright beacon past the cosmic sea,

And whisper to the vast, attentive sky:

"My son, wait there... and save a place for me."