18jan2011
by
doria dphrepaulezz
Tucson,
Az
Notes
to a Mother I do not know,
whose pain has touched a billion souls.
Loss
is a four-letter word. It is a
cold ruthless, unsatisfying, one syllable word. It wrenches the last breath from your lungs and takes you on
a roller coaster ride into the very depths of your limits. Loss takes hold of the very essence of
what is left of your will, your strength and it crushes your heart. After the silence of death, it seems
that reason has not come to pass.
To love thy neighbor has not come to be. Intolerance and ignorance have
not dissolved into thin air. For a
brief moment the soft winter wind speaks, she caresses our souls. There is no end and no reason, and then
suddenly love seeps in. Faith
returns. Remember 8 January. Remember the pain, the anguish and then
begin the lifelong journey towards peace and understanding.
Love
is a four-letter word that flows beyond into the land of your wildest
dreams. It takes you on the ride
of your life. Love is good and it
conquers evil. It is often all
that is left when the winds of loss have surrendered and the oceans’ waves have
calmed, it is Love that engulfs, that survives that continues far beyond.
Nine. Nine years is not a
life, it is a moment, we had that moment so precious and so alive and we let it
go. So sweet the memory of
Nine. Brought into this world
embraced by the love a nation, a greater hope for tomorrow, a belief that life
must go on. That life is and
death is not. The pain will end
and tomorrow, sweet, sweet tomorrow shall rise again.
No comments:
Post a Comment