I know that my loved ones are not truly dead, not just because I can feel them near, but because they dwell in the very heart and soul of the divine. Every bit of love they ever had is still there, but like coal under pressure, it has turned, with their passing, into something rare and strange. I do feel sometimes as if they’re all around me.
And perhaps, when we sleep, the starstuff of our souls ascends to the heart of the divine, to be with the starstuff of our loved ones.
And that’s what makes the stars twinkle at night.