27th March 2013
Grief seizes me and twists my bowels.
It grabs me by the neck and shakes me like a rat.
It darkens the sun, eclipses the moon.
O Jon, my son, my son, my son.
You were a gift we held too briefly.
You showed us joy in learning,
music, games, and friends.
Death, the impassive calculator,
saw your thread come to its end,
tapped you on the shoulder, and said, Come.
You went into the light of perfect knowledge.
We linger here in the shadows,
waiting for the time to follow you.
Live in our daily dealings with each other,
let memories of your kindness and delight
shape our minds and heal our hearts.
O Jon my son, my son, my son.
Mostly book reviews, plus whatever else I feel like posting. I welcome comments and conversation. Comments are moderated, so it may take a day or two for your comment to appear. Or send a mail to wolfmac@sympatico.ca If you quote, please also link to this blog. If you like this blog, please follow it. Highest review rating is four stars ****
Unnatural Death (Sayers, 1927)
Dorothy Sayers. Unnatural Death. (1927) Agatha Dawson, a well-off old lady, dies of old age. But Lord Peter doesn’t believe it was a natur...
-
John Cunningham. The Tin Star (Collier’s, December 4, 1947) The short story adapted for High Noon . As often happens, the movie retains v... -
Alan Bullock. Hitler: A Study of Tyranny (1962) This is the second, revised edition, in which Bullock has taken advantage of documents...
-
Today we remember those whom we sent into war on our behalf, and who gave everything they had. They gave their lives. I want to think a...
1 comment:
What a moving way to speak of Jon. I think you summed up for me how I feel about people moving onto the next plane while we all wait in the shadow of grief.
Post a Comment