Reaching for the stars
Loving the way they twinkle
Against the soft black sky
Millions of stars evident to the eye
When I was a little girl
My imagination would soar
I used to think
The twinkling was from loved ones
That passed on
The twinkling was their way of saying
Hi
I love that memory
There is a part of me
That still believes
~Divine

I also think that our memory still believes that we can change something in a good way.
Awesome poem, dear. And so philosophical. When will you publish them on Amazon? 
Thank you Lady Olga!
Very soon. I’m working on it
Happy Easter x