Tuesday, May 9, 2017

TO A LOST BROTHER: ON THIS DAY, SORROW IS OUR OWN YARD


Nothing grows here, in this sorrow yard
The stunted thorn-limbed trees
Seem to droop, tired and limp

And even the dry bushes, wilt
And sag

The aloe your niece and nephews planted here
for you last year
is parched and dry like paper

The dust flies everywhere

On this day, had you but lived
Three score of years you would have seen
And since the day when you were grabbed
We've all aged much more than should have been

Your mom and dad
Still grow their plants and flowers
In their always-green jardin
Like they grew us
To be sturdy, to flower, and to seed
But alas, my brother, they cut you down
And their dream was not to be

Your pictures still adorn their walls
As they hang upon our hearts

We sometimes think of how things could have been
To see you with a baby, a nephew-grandchild
perched upon your knee
We wish, we yearn, of things that should have been

Nothing has grown but for our memory of you
Which seems to bloom as time goes on
It has branched out from each of us
And like a creeping vine
Entwined in all our thoughts

The bright green leaves and petals
                                                                              of you
bloom here inside and
Sometimes you walk into our dreams
And say hello, and pass on by

Brother of mine
Our thoughts and dreams have watered
You
So that each passing day you seem to live the more

No, nothing grows here upon our sorrow field
But for your memory
In full bloom in our hearts

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

So young...May God continue to fill your heart and those who loved him with strength

Anonymous said...

Great tribute JM.
Sorry for your loss.

rita