Here midst the towering pines and plush green grass
Small granite pillows mark the infant’s bed
To signify a life too briefly led
Here on this fragile earth. I sigh. Alas,
Great tears well in my eyes. A father weeps;
Then calmly kneeling clears away debris.
He dreams of days that never were to be,
And yearns to hold the one that gently sleeps
To rise some future day.
Yea, though his cheeks
Are bathed in flowing tears while they’re apart;
The Spirit gives him peace, love fills his heart
And soon he finds the comfort that he seeks.
“The day will come when we shall reunite!
Until then, Father, hold him through the night.”