Lord, I want to write a poem for my friend
Who lost her son this week
Where one grief has ended, another has
Begun. All the what ifs have turned to if onlys,
The knock of the sheriff, so often feared, came at last.
There will be no more wondering when
The knock will come--
There will be no more despair when
Relapse returns--
The beating on Your chest, feels just as strong,
If less desperate--
Prepare her for this unwanted space
From fearing one child’s death to losing another
With a beautiful trauma between--
Will the Lord’s waves keep crashing?
You appear to be sleeping--
Don’t you care?
Shout, “Peace be Still”! Send your angels!
Anything to lift her from this living hell
Or, at least, lengthen
Her rope so she can draw
from a deeper well.
Show up for her now like You do best,
Is my poem’s sole request.
On the loss of Ellen's adult son, Drew. (Ellen is my spiritual director).
