Heart Of The Matter
Paper Hearts
I heard about a woman,
Who lost her only son,
Was taken by an accident,
His Harley, written off,
It happened one September,
A day she won't forget,
It's branded in her memory,
Her son had gone ahead,
Her pain, she lives with daily,
Her thoughts, only of him,
The daily recognition, that,
She won't see him again,
But yet she knows that he exists,
So near, and yet, so far,
She feels his essence close to her,
His proof, so tangible,
She does not like to speak of this,
In case we think she's mad,
But she has found the evidence,
He leaves for her and Dad,
For every now and then she finds,
A little paper heart,
Left in the strangest places,
A sign; he's still around,
She picks them up and keeps them,
Beside his photograph,
There, sitting on a table,
Confetti, shaped like hearts,
And when she feels despondent,
She counts them one by one,
So many loving messages,
From her one, and only son,
And yes, her heart's still heavy,
She's sad that he's gone home,
But she finds, another paper heart,
And she knows; she's not alone.
Linda Harnett, ©2007
This is a true story, non fictional. There is much in this life we will never comprehend, we can only watch, listen, and wonder.
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Paper Hearts
Paper Hearts
