• Ali Isaac

For Our Lost Children | A Poem

Updated: Feb 27, 2020

Butterfly and dandelion

Another morning dawns bright and clear,

a winter’s day, cold and still.

I should be glad,

but I’m gripped by fear,

heart heavy, slowed by an aching chill.

I feel only empty and sad.

I miss their smiling faces.

They smiled a lot. I see them everywhere,

just a fleeting glimpse, a flash of light,

then they move on to other places.

Stuck in the moment, I can only stare

into the void left behind by their flight.

They were too quick for me, for us.

They lived their whole lifetimes

before we were ready to let them go.

So we endure, comforted by memories, pained by loss,

guilty of love, of ignorance, of hope, our human crimes.

We did our best, I hope they know.

Life goes on, we are told,

but for a while it passes us by.

Lazy is Time; sly, cruel, unkind,

beating us with remembrances, ragged and bold,

softening emotions, smoothing grief while we cry,

eventually bringing peace of mind.

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