God's Most Beautiful Angel-A Mother's Grief
Resting Place
Resting Place
As I tend to you in your resting place my heart it is confused.
There is so much love…so much anger... it’s taken so much abuse.
The stone is cold and hard…yet all around the green grass grows.
How could this have happened? Only you will ever know.
You never think of your children dying. It is not the natural order.
You think of mothers, fathers or grandparents…someone older.
Our little ones they are to grow and prosper…they are meant to stay.
Not die in sickness or accidents and tragically slip away.
It makes no difference young or old…their years many or few.
Their leaving wrings your very soul and pulls the breath right out of you.
There is nothing you can say or do that will change what has taken place.
To struggle on and try to recover is the task that we must face.
I sit here pulling weeds...so close to you and yet…so far away.
I kiss your picture in the stone and I know I must be brave.
I must discover…whatever it is…that thing which others call strength.
To find a new kind of normal…for ours was forever changed…will take me to great lengths.
The days will pass by one by one and I will join you soon enough.
I will be content to sit here…to sit here and prune and cut.
I shall wait for the time when once again I see you not in the granites face.
You can tend my heart and soul and I will tend your resting place.
As I tend to you in your resting place my heart it is confused.
There is so much love…so much anger... it’s taken so much abuse.
The stone is cold and hard…yet all around the green grass grows.
How could this have happened? Only you will ever know.
You never think of your children dying. It is not the natural order.
You think of mothers, fathers or grandparents…someone older.
Our little ones they are to grow and prosper…they are meant to stay.
Not die in sickness or accidents and tragically slip away.
It makes no difference young or old…their years many or few.
Their leaving wrings your very soul and pulls the breath right out of you.
There is nothing you can say or do that will change what has taken place.
To struggle on and try to recover is the task that we must face.
I sit here pulling weeds...so close to you and yet…so far away.
I kiss your picture in the stone and I know I must be brave.
I must discover…whatever it is…that thing which others call strength.
To find a new kind of normal…for ours was forever changed…will take me to great lengths.
The days will pass by one by one and I will join you soon enough.
I will be content to sit here…to sit here and prune and cut.
I shall wait for the time when once again I see you not in the granites face.
You can tend my heart and soul and I will tend your resting place.
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Resting Place
Resting Place
