This week a friend lost her son in one of those freak accidents that every parent fears. He was 5 years-old. His name was Reece.
Her pain is too much to bear, yet she soldiers on–for her husband, for her children, for her family, for everyone else who mourns his passing. I have no words of comfort to offer her, because there is nothing to say. It is a terrible, horrible thing. End of story.
However, I am a writer. It is how I hope and how I cope. I can only write poetry when inspired, and these words came to me today:
For Reece
Too soon , too soon–
Why must you leave so soon?
A little heart no longer beating;
A little life too short and fleeting
Why must you leave so soon?
A light that sent the shadows flying;
A soul so happy without trying;
An empty place that leaves us crying;
Why must you leave so soon?
Alas, your songs will not be sung;
A silence lives where you would run;
The dreams you dreamed remain undone;
Why must you leave so soon?
But wait—that light has not burned out!
Your spirit still remains about.
We love you always there’s no doubt.
We won’t let you go so soon.
bethwarstadt.com 