This was written when Tim was not quite four.


Alone on an island in the empty sea,
Tim stood bewildered watching me
Sail away at a steady pace
Till I was but a dot that he could trace,
And gone now.

He cradled his face in the sand and cried
Mama had abandoned her precious child
To die here.

The heart of his mama broke anew
Each mile of the way as the ocean grew
Between them.

The heart of our God and Parent of all
What sorrow will bear when doom befalls
His children.

Before them—gloom and thickening black precedes
Behind them light, love, good, sing and dance recedes
Never again to see home and Father
Alone and hate and dark and die

-n- 31 May 1996

[Disclaimer: I am not proud of most of the “poetry” that I have penned in my lifetime. I am no poet, but most of these poems were written at times when prose could not have provided the necessary expression and release of emotion. My poems are as important to me as singing may to be to someone who is not endowed with a singing voice—it justifiably fulfills a need. Thus, although not primarily meant for the consumption of the wider audience, it has a place in my blog, which, as I have mentioned before, also functions as a platform for my own retrieval and use.]