My spring baby, my wild and free, my dark eyed beauty, my four leaf

clover, has surely left me. I remember the jokes we often said; we would

grow old together.

But now, it's just me growing old without you. Whenever she shows up

and whispers "Momma" I know it's not the end somehow, I will see you

again. I am alone when she appears out of nowhere and whispers 

"Momma" that chills me to the bone.  

When I look harder, I see you holding your little sister's hand running

through the Lavender fields in laughter.

Every now and then, she whispers "Momma"

in my ear that brings a smile for a little while, knowing she was here.

In the full bloom, thick spikes of rosy purple flowers are swaying in rhythm

under the lilac breeze, dispersing their breathtaking smell. When the

lavender fields are rolling, it's then, I'm gazing at a purple wave of 

sensing you and your little sister too running by together smiling at each

other as you both blow kisses to your mother.

It's God's mysterious ways and wonder that help us to feel better.

 (c)  May 24, 2022  Valerie Caramella