I was hoping to write another poem soon, but I was also hoping it would not be so bleak. However, the weather was cold and windy (as it has been so often this schizophrenic spring) when we implanted the unique cross we found to temporarily mark where we interred our son. Even the picture looks lonely and barren. Memorial Day is another of those painful firsts God seems in such a hurry to send our way.
A Cross Now Stands
A cross now stands
where you lie down
among the stones and sod.
The quiet place your body rests
until raised up by God.
Your spirit soars
where you live now
and see your Savior's face.
With dread, I face the years ahead
when yours is in this place.
As I stand here
where other mothers
like myself are grieving,
You stand with Him who loved you first
and gave the cross it's meaning.
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