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The Edge of Nowhere

No words can be spoken
To assuage the seemingly purposeless pain.
No point of extraction may release
The inexactitude of the erasable reality
of the death to one so young.

So full of hope & promise of future dreams.
No sense can be made
regardless of all humane efforts.

The poets have all spoken
but the audience still cannot fathom
these depths of incomprehensibility.

How could this happen?
So many cared to so much?

Ours is not to reason why. . .

We will struggle to regain composure
To say it was meant to be for some reason.

The DNA shorted & left the expected path
Hellbent on distracted destruction for everyone
connected as far as the eye could see.

To a place where we all will disappear.
Yet we return somewhat wiser tho none the smarter.

To the troublesome entities that abound
regardless of clairvoyance & self-effacing ineptitude.

Fearing regret & the clarity of a new day
we can only say that we remain bound
by the universal distance between knowing & not.

We are all caught in the disparate
actuality that is now.

"Duck and the wall behind me"

Do not stand at
my grave and weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there,
I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there.
I do not die.

-Mary Elizabeth Frye

Danny Boy

Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.

And if you come, when all the flowers are dying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be
You'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.
And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me
And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be
If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.

-Frederick Weatherly

Jealous Guy

I was dreaming of the past.
And my heart was beating fast,
I began to lose control,
I began to lose control,
I didn't mean to hurt you,
I'm sorry that I mad you cry,
I didn't want to hurt you,
I'm just a jealous guy,
I was feeling insecure,
You night not love me any more,
I was shivering inside,
I was shivering inside,
I was trying to catch your eyes,
Thought that you were trying to hide,
I was swallowing my pain,
I was swallowing my pain.

-John Lennon

Forever Changed

The days are less sunny now.
Sleep no longer is that blissful slumber
in dreamy realms.
My heart is not that beautiful red
and lacy valentine that was my carefree youth.
I am forever changed.

Death has touched my soul,
but spared my life and carried me to a miry pit of despair. Tears cannot wash the pain away,
wake me from this nightmare,
free me from this hell.
Forgive my once joyous ignorance of life’s
less happy fare. My Son is gone.
I am forever changed.

God, I cry, “Why me?”
No Answer.
God, I cry, “Why me?”
No Answer.
God, I cry, “Why me?”

Then as slowly as a ripple on a misty stream comes stealing a solemn whisper, soft as gossamer into my weary head and splays a somber echo, “Why is not for you to know until your days are done.”

“God, is that you? Have you heard my mournful bale? My agonizing sorrow, what sin have I, that such as this has come? Have you at last remembered me, oh answer now my wail.”

“Yes, I have heard you and know that I sifted that thorny trial in my hands before I found you strong enough to endure the pain - a pain I know too well. I know how your heart is broken. My own was broke at Calvary. For, I too lost a son.

A perfect man, a perfect son, a sinless man, my only son gave his life on that bloody tree.
Yes, you are forever changed.

Your heart will always mourn.
But I give you sweet assurance of Resurrection’s hope, for which my son was born.

Your arms that ache to hold him, surely will on Heaven’s shore, where sadness flees and joy returns, and tears will fall no more. Rest now in the knowledge, he rests now in my arms where in happiness he waits for you, safe from all that harms.

-Jackie Atwood

Christmas morning

Dear Geordie,

Are you having Christmas with Jesus?
I had to get up - so many hours of not sleeping.
I'm down on the side deck of the ship.
It is about 8:30 Christmas morning.
I'm crying and asking where you are.
My answer is "flying fish" - tiny & shiny flying
many feet through the air.
It looks fun. I wonder if they compete with each other.
One can sail higher and farther than all the rest.
That jump was at least 200 feet.
Good job! Thank you sweetheart
for brightening my day. Have a good Christmas
with Jesus and all my friends in heaven.