Tomorrow, February 5th it will be 19 years since my son went home to be with his celestial family. I still miss him as much as the night he left.
There are days when the wind blows:
I hear your voice calling my name;
Your footsteps fall on pine needles
In the same break and tempo as mine;
I see your image in a green lake
Feeding ducks with smiling children;
I feel your father’s heartbreak
When Little Miss Magic cries.
There are days when the wind blows:
It carries my voice to heaven calling you,
While I walk the places we used to walk
Where leaves crushed beneath our feet,
Where sand squished between our toes,
When dreams were built in an hour,
When I laughed at your jokes and
Stroked the hair from your brow.
There are days when the wind blows:
I feel pain and joy at your birth.
My heart breaks again from the unspeakable
Which paralyzed my mind,
And stole the rock I leaned upon,
Taking my faith for a moment.
But it’s faith which…
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That … Is … Beautiful. Sad and moving. Expressed in such searingly heart-felt poetry. Thank you, Phyllis.
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Thanks so much for your kind compliment. There are two dates which trigger such melancholy. His birthdate of Sep 27 and Death of Feb 5 always find me a little down no matter how much time passes. I was only 15 when he was born, but the Lord allowed me to be his mother 31 years. He was a wonderful gift.
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I didn’t like to pry too much into your back story, Phyllis. Understandingly, the hurt will so clearly remain, but I trust your poetry will allow a little relief. So glad you feel able to share.
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Yes, poetry does. It is a splendid thing even when I’m just writing for me. Thank you.
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Thank you for sharing your loss and your faith. Blessings!
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Thank you, Bruce.
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So sorry for your loss. May your faith continue to comfort you.
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Thank you, Candice.
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