Me: Dear grandfather, do you hear me in the mist?
Your voice echoes, like a whisper in the foam.
More than thirteen moons have passed now,
and in my heart, your absence is profound.

Grandfather: My beloved girl, I am always here,
in every whisper of the wind that reaches you near.
Do not cry, little one, though time may ache,
there's a corner in heaven where love will awake.

Me: But grandfather, my world feels gray,
my mother in her shadow, lost in a distant way.
Is this a punishment, this weight that I bear?
Are there angels here, or just a lingering despair?

Grandfather: Life is a cycle, a journey without end,
angels watch over you, though you may not comprehend.
Gray clouds sometimes are just a veil in disguise,
but deep down inside, the sky always shines.

Me: Sometimes I want to scream, but my voice fades away,
in solitude, my being trembles and sways.
I long for your embrace, your eternal calmness,
like in my dreams where sadness finds its balmness.

Grandfather:Remember, my girl, that love never departs,
in every smile of my great-granddaughter it starts.
She is a reflection, a ray of sun’s glow,
in her eyes shines a piece of my soul’s flow.

Me: Grandfather, one day I traveled to that subtle bridge,
where souls meet each other in a fervent ridge.
I saw you in the distance; I wanted to cross without doubt,
but fate told me that I must still wait it out.

I have walked that bridge on multiple occasions,
but the...