If Only a Mother's Love Could Have Saved You

 Bones bear girth 
 where once, 
 wisdom birthed you
 Love lost in the framing 
 of art for art’s sake

 (because and as if)

 a mother's love
 could have saved you-- 
 been there to catch
 you fall 
  
 tears stilled by the heavens
 stars deep as dark's cry 
 to where now
 and forever-- 
 you forever now reside.
 
 Your descent of life 
 hers, labored love born,
 on wings beating too wildly
 and too soon your own.
 
 your beat of heart hers, 
 now her own to live on
 sick pulse of ache 
 holding death in her arms.
 
 oh my heart 
 and oh my son,
 without you life empties
 yet love forever beats on.
 
 And so now, my forever,
 "Why?" replete in my soul,
 which has always--
 and still, child-- 
 moved in grooves you made whole.
 
 If only a mother's love could have saved you
 If only she had heard your heart's cry,
 Perhaps she could save you yet both 
 falling stars in the darkness of sky.
  
  © Beth Brown, 2022 
 All rights reserved


  
  
  
   

Latest from the Blog

A Poem About Losing My Child: Sorrow Buried in Love

A Poem About Losing My Child: Sorrow Buried in Love Sorrow Buried in Love So swish to sway to sweet lullaby, Baby will fall in dark of the night. Rocking cradle to grave turning truth upside down: Parents die first leaving children behind. In a world topsy-turvy that cannot make sense, Sacred trust shines the…

Keep reading

Holiday Grief Series: “Helping Yourself Heal During the Holiday Season”

“Helping Yourself Heal During the Holiday Season” By Alan Wolfelt The suggestions below offer practical tips for coping with grief during the holidays. Alan D. Wolfelt, the author of these suggestions, writes prolifically about all aspects of grief. He offers practical suggestions for handling grief (including for teens and kids), and he addresses grief in…

Keep reading

Living in the Glare of My Son’s Suicide

Living in the Glare Listen to Your Narrative It isn’t wrong, this narrative of yours. Isn’t something to be fixed. Adjusted. Changed. Rewritten. God knows you’d rewrite your narrative if you could. Consider the whole thing a tumultuous, torrid first draft. A rough sketch ill-constructed. The consequence lacking intention. Not giving words, shapes, ideas, even…

Keep reading

Loading…

Something went wrong. Please refresh the page and/or try again.

Get new posts delivered to your inbox.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s