The Night Sky

The Night Sky

I look up, up, up and see the night,

Like a skein of black silk,

glimmering with chips of brilliant diamonds,

smooth and cool across my vision.

Hung like a slick, glowing pearl,

the moon hangs,

a jewel on the breast of a beautiful, mysterious woman,

mother, sister, friend, confidant.

She calls to me, asking, whispering, wondering.

Why do you cry?

Why do you cry?

I wrap myself in the dark tresses of her hair,

close my eyes and feel the cold fire of her beauty seep into me

and know that if I whisper my hurt, my sorrow, my grief,

she will hear and tell no one.

Her stars reflect the past,

her light a reflection of what has already come to pass.

She knows why I grieve.

She hears and offers the comfort of her beauty to me.

Alone, I stand in her embrace,

not pretending, not strong, not hiding from my pain.

Alone, I offer her my river of memories,

my tears and my solitude.

~Sheila Medlam

Every time the full moon rises in the sky, I think of this day, surrounded by friends and family, laughter and fun, Mason on Britta with his daddy by his side. I stare at the moon and wonder if Mason is looking at it too.