How do I tell you how sorry I am

for a loss that’s too heavy to bear,

not as alone as you feel and think

within this airless bubble of your own pain!

There’s no solace, no compensation,

in knowing that yours is the awful burden

of every bereaved parent mourning their child.

It’s the Sun gone black, a star snuffed out,

with laughter dead, bleeding

in the blizzard of shattered smiles.

Who would’ve thought they’d live to see

meanings fold, the world, a void, spinning in vain!

It’s a deep crying for what cannot be changed.

And yet, morning comes, as it surely must.

As you sit, empty, staring out, at that cloudless sky,

so full of rain the night before, you’ll hear footsteps,

so like your child’s, and in that moment,

senseless with hope, whip around.

You’ll see how the one you’ve lost is more

with you than ever before, dissolved back into you,

and now, a part of your every cell.

It’s more so now than before he was born.

It’s breaking your shell from within.

It’s making you tender and vulnerable,

scorching your wounds with serious pain.

You’ll never be the same again.

When you smile, the world will at last know,

the reason for the night, and the coming of the day.