Sunday, June 7, 2015

IN MEMORY and HONOR OF ALL MY SONS and BEAU BIDEN–THEIR SPIRITS LIVE ON

 It's not the length of life that is quintessential.  It's the devotion of life between parent and child,

 MY DEAR BELOVED


We at birth reject our new lives very much so
With tiny voices we cry out loud,
But then at life's end,  "We don't want to go."

From out of our mothers' wombs so patient and warm,
So sudden and foreign we stare with eyes open wide.
"Where am I and whose loving arms hold me now that I'm born."

Then little by little Earth  becomes a wonder land.
A babe's eyes behold its beauty as exciting sounds fill their ears,
Joy, shrieks of laughter and delight, all in one, a new  journey at hand.

And at the end of a young life, sorrow descends over all,
They say the worst loss to a parent is a child,
What they say is true, when youths die, a curtain call.

Grief overwhelming my heart broken within me.
I sob before an iron door that will never open again,
Not even with a golden key.

I shower myself in tears until they stop their flow.
Perhaps they've  dried up by now,
But they are always ready, brimming over wherever I go.

The ocean, the surf,  the waves used to give me so many joys,
Walking  barefoot along sandy beaches.
But now to my ears they remind me of my boys.

The sorrow of all ages, a giant sea of tears
Seems to crash over my head in endless cries of woe,
As I weep and try to sleep at night throughout the years.

The pain in my heart is real, it stabs me like a knife.
I get no relief, from dusk to dawn.
The crowds they came in masses and hugged me so tight.

But now the lines of condolences are gone and in the chambers of my mind
I couldn't believe my smiles and laughter would ever came back like a song,
As all the  yesterday have slipped away with the passing of time.

The faces of my sons are ever before my eyes
As I embrace them forever and a day.
Each morning getting out of bed becomes another sigh.

I thought the sun would no longer shine for me.
My sons have gone, no longer here.
But then Beau Biden's funeral bought me again to my knee.

I weep with his grieving family recalling my own,
As a vision of my sons' memories flashed before my eyes
A  blur of human faces, awkward looking for words–I am not alone. 

And then a man, I do not know, whispered into my ear,
With human compassion the most powerful sense,
"This too will pass with the passing of each year."

Maybe he was right, what can I say?
But the memories of my sons
Will never pass away.

Music and lyrics of Danny Boy I cannot hear
My entire  soul weeps, my eyes hardly able to see.
To this day without shedding a bittersweet tear.

And then suddenly after years of remembering,
With my sons' always on my mind embracing me, the roaring ocean,
Once so dark and profound, now brings joy and makes me sing.

Whenever I see a butterfly I see my sons' eyes as, beautiful as can be.
A future of  concern, worries and Earth's problems now gone
As they are now free from grief and tragedy.

They embrace us, as strong as eagles fly
Loving nature, life and happiness,
Wrapped in the warmth of our family, their spirits never die,

Their memory witi my husband and me, over sixty three years, wherever we go,
Spirits in the wind, the rainbow in the sky, the sweet songs of birds on wing,
We are together, our beloved daughters and all, to the end of our lives–of this I know!


June 8, 2015  Helene Smith