“I’ll lend you for a little time a child of mine,” He said.
“For you to love the while he lives and mourn when he is dead,
“It may be six or seven years, or twenty-two or three,
“But will you, till I call him back, take care of him for me?
“He’ll bring his charms to gladden you, but should his stay be brief,
“You’ll have his lovely memories, as solace for your grief,
“I cannot promise he will stay, since all from earth return,
“But there are lessons taught down there I want this child to learn.
“I’ve looked the wide world over in my search for teachers true,
“And from the throngs that crowd life’s lanes I have selected you.
“Now will you give him all your love, nor think the labor vain,
“Nor hate me when I come to call to take him back again?
I fancied that I heard them say: “Dear Lord, Thy will be done!
“For all the joy Thy child shall bring, the risk of grief we’ll run.
We’ll shelter him with tenderness; we’ll love him while we may,
And for happiness we’ve known forever grateful stay.
“But should the angels call for him much sooner than we’d planned,
“We’ll brave the bitter grief that comes and try to understand.”
(by Edgar Guest)
Email This Post
|
No Comments »
Misty breeze wraps about my shoulders, thinly clad.
I shiver not, despite the coolness on my skin.
Comfort, I now feel.
Is it you my precious Angel?
Are you there? I cannot hear your quiet voice,
But bird song fills the air
From high treetops to grassy marsh.
I wonder – is it you, Dear? Are you there?
The roses in your garden bloom large,
And varied in hue from crimson deep, to barely pink.
I cup the velvet bud, its fragrance soothes a troubled mind.
This must be you, my little girl. Are you there?
Are you the fiery autumn maples,
Or the star-like flakes of snow?
Are you the sparkle in the water of the lake that we both loved,
Or, perhaps, the warmth I feel in the sand beneath my toes?
Though your quiet voice I cannot hear,
Nor can I see again your sparkling eyes,
Or feel your dainty hand laid gently on my own,
You are here.
For memory’s book will never close –
Each lovely sound, or sight, or scent,
Another page from special times that we have shared.
Oh, yes! You are here child – everywhere!
( by Diane Robertson)
Email This Post
|
No Comments »
Sometimes I sense a little flutter.
Like a shadow swiftly slipping by.
Or I hear a silent, gentle murmur.
Like a soft whisper from out the sky.
Sometimes… I hear you call my name,
Or clearly see your face before me.
And I feel that you are with me still.
Then peacefully… I come to know
As I am thinking happy thoughts of you
You, my son, are thinking of me too.
Loving memories fill my aching heart.
As dreaming dreams of what could be.
Or might have been, if you were here.
Until the piercing pain of losing you
Comes tumbling down on trembling fear.
And clearly once again I hear you say,
“But Mom…What if I had never been.
You could not then in LOVE remember me.”
(by Beenie Legato)
Email This Post
|
No Comments »