Someday, Maybe

Dear Stranger,

I think about you often.

Sometimes when I miss you,

I talk to the moon and stars

like I'm talking to you.

Hoping that somehow,

you'll hear the desperate

I love you's fall from my lips

because I know you'll see the moon

from where you are.

I wonder if I saw you on the street,

would I recognize your face?

Would you, mine?

I hope you think about me

as often as I think about you.

Back to the moon and it's stars,

for I hope to find you there

searching for me,

waiting for my return.

Or perhaps you have no interest,

that or you've given up 

and left for a second time.

Or maybe you've taken your final breath.

Though, for now

 I keep my eyes up after the sun goes down,

in hopes to find you there someday.

There in a place safe and bright,

where I won't have to look for you in the night sky

because we will be the night sky.

Is it possible to miss someone I've never met?

A stranger who shares my DNA?

Is it possible to miss someone as vastly as the ocean is deep?

Or as wide as the sky is tall?

Because I feel the depth and height in the emptiness

of the place you should be.

I love you.

I miss you dearly,

stranger. 

Happy Mothers Day,

Your (Beloved) Daughter