Bouquets Of Tears

Walking towards me with a bouquet of flowers, tears hanging from her eyes, a sadness emanating from her soul. How I wish I could reach out, hug her, tell her I'm alright, that I still love her, but the silence of death lies between us. Carefully making her way, making sure not to step on any other's grave, coming upon mine, kneeling, saying a prayer for me as she places her bouquet in the little holder. Eyes totally misted over, everything's a little blurry, cleaning off my headstone, touching it so gently as if I am a part of it and she doesn't want to hurt me. Wanting to tear away the blanket of silence and let her know I'm here, near her. As she rearranges the flowers, Mom talks to me, I wish I could answer and put her heart to rest. She's suffered so much already, I softly brush her hair back with a gentle breeze so I can see her better. I touch her heart with the many tears she holds there and talk to her, Mom, death does not lessen my love for you, I try in many small ways to let you know I'm thinking of you. Asking God to put certain people in your life to help you, I know you recognize them soul to soul, only the good, kind- hearted, caring people will do, the one's I'm sure you can recognize some small part of myself in. Hoping Mom, that you treasure these people as I do, it's the only way now to show my continuing love and appreciation, felt even now beyond the grave for your kindness, love and caring wile I lived with you. Wishing Mom, that you could hear me, maybe it would help ease your pain a little, I love you, Mom, I always will. Watching Mom walk away from me, somehow I think she's heard me, her soul seems a little bit lighter. Until next time Mom, and I flutter my way back to heaven, where our true joy will someday, again, be together.