You Come Back to Me

The other day, in our bereavement group meeting, we were talking about how our children come back to us. Some babies come back as light, some as wind, some as the full moon. To me, you come back as insects. I don’t know... maybe it has to do with my tendency towards all things biology! So, I was inspired to write this poem.
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Every night
You seem to come back to me
As your insect of choice
An ant, a spider, a moth, a bee.
You sit on the wall at night
Ushering me into sleep
Or visit me in the shower
Along the ceiling you creep.
I can walk along the beach
And find you beneath the sand
Or on a warm, moist night
Landing so gracefully on my hand.
I can grab a piece of fruit
And see you hovering nearby
So small and meek
Today you’re a fruit fly.
Even in the dead of winter
When no bug is in sight,
A butterfly flies behind me
All nimbly and bright.
I see you now,
Peering at me with so many eyes,
Who would have thought
You could live so many lives.
Yes, everywhere I go,
A four or six-legged creature follows
I can’t help but think that it’s you,
So in your memory I wallow.
You’re always here with me, Shiloh
In one way or another
And it’s so funny to feel
Like an insect’s mother!
But I’ve come to love
These special visits from you at night
Because you are the last thing I touch, I see
Before I turn out the light.