The Butterfly
You flit about without a care
Searching for food on morning’s air.
Pure icon for a soul set free
Of life, of love and liberty.
Your wings abound with colours true
Of orange, brown, red, green and blue.
Like noble’s shields in days gone past,
Displayed the patterns that were cast
In perpetuity to see;
Now all the world doth envy thee!
Yes, seasons come and seasons go
But I remain, and even though
My child has left this life of pain
To be reborn on high again,
Your life is short lived too, it seems
Like visions of a shattered dream.
So Papillon, can you not see
Why you’re so special now to me?
Of all God’s creatures great and small,
You are, no doubt, the best of all.
My garden is your second home
Free spirit fly, where I may roam
To watch your path on silken wings;
My thoughts then turn to other things.
And so with coloured form and grace
The pride of Lepidoptera’s race,
Is thus now set to symbolise
The changed form up above the skies.
Now I must wait and watch for thee
And long for some serenity.
John Bartlett T.C.F Qld. Aust 13.09.2000
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I’M AN ANGEL
(A Child’s reply)
Where I am now you cannot see,
For I am spirit, fancy free.
Where shadows end, no day or night;
I am in heaven, in the light.
And so wherever you may roam,
Remember now that I am home.
Quite different to the one I left;
It’s sad to see you’re still bereft.
So here I stay where there is peace.
No hurt, no pain, just sweet release.
I was the product of your love
A child sent down from up above,
To walk a brief time there with you;
A life of hope and meaning too.
I know you wanted me to stay
And even though you knelt to pray,
The angels came and lifted me
High up above the clouds to see
Another time, another space
Where love surrounds this holy place.
Remember me but do not grieve,
I’m happy now, you must believe.
So keep the faith although it’s hard
For you to go that extra yard.
I am at peace, I’ll say again
There is just sunshine here, no rain.
So live your lives so full and free
And maybe sometimes cry for me;
You’re only human proud and tall,
Whilst I’m an angel after all.
John Bartlett T.C.F Qld. Aust 02.08.2000
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GUILTY AS SIN
A father's supposed to shield and protect his children from harm.
Because of this I've tortured myself facing up to the fact
That my child is dead and I'm still alive.
Was it punishment for some long past sin?
Why didn't I warn him?
I should have known.
I might have prevented it if I had been there.
At least he wouldn't have died alone.
At rare times when I laugh,
I'm full of shame for having fun.
I can easily see that logically I am not to blame.,
But I can't convince my psyche and me.
In times of reflection I wonder why
If God can forgive me, then why can't I?
Dr. Richard A. Drew
"Rachel's Cry - A Journey Through Grief"
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Grief's Garden
When our innocence has ended
And the dark night has begun,
Despair and heartache vie with numbness,
Mind and body, shocked, unstrung.
Levels of pain and understanding
Must be reached ere we see gain,
Taking longer than expected.
No one else can know the pain.
Grief, like clearing virgin farmland,
Full of boulders, stumps and stones,
Back breaking and bone crushing,
And, in great part, done alone.
Think when feeling strong emotion,
"Another boulder moved today."
When it's felt with all your being,
It can then be moved away.
If we feel the stone's not moving,
We may have to look beneath,
Bring to sunlight what's in darkness,
So what's there may be released.
Treat yourself to gifts and blessings
That will help to keep you strong.
Give yourself to happy moments,
Feel each feeling, then move on.
Work and work to clear the garden,
Feel transcendence in the toil.
Under all the stones and boulders
Will be found much fertile soil.
Watered by our weary weeping,
Warmed by tender words and sighs,
Green shoots sprouting all around us,
Springtime comes with open eyes.
When we look to find what's growing,
We are shocked to see ourselves.
Now replacing fearsome chaos,
An awakening garden dwells.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
As at first we glimpse the garden,
The next moment it feels gone.
It's a painful kind of growing,
Falling back, then moving on.
Since this garden's fed by feelings,
Some form mist to block the view.
If we try to feel them wholly,
They will always move on through.
Just when we think we're finished,
That the hardest work is done,
There before us, weeds and brambles,
So immense they shade the sun.
Grief's garden work's not easy.
But from deep inside the soul
Will come strength and deep compassion.
With love and care it will take hold.
And our children watch the growing;
Somewhere they are growing too.
And the tears that flood the garden
Create rainbows and clear views.
With our gardens we pay tribute
To our children who have gone.
Their memorials are our gardens;
Through our gardens they live on.
From Stars in the Deepest Night -After the Death of a Child,
by Genesse Bourdeau Gentry
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"How Does One Become
a Butterfly?"
"How does one become a butterfly?" she asked pensively
"You must want to fly so much
that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar"
"You mean to die?" asked Yellow...
"Yes and no," he answered
"What looks like you will die,
but what's really you will live"
~by Trina Paulus, From Hope for the Flowers
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What Are the Qualities
of Life?
What are the qualities of life?
It can be shared forever, but cannot be kept forever.
When given to another, it brings great joy to all;
when taken, the anguish for many is great.
It is sometimes maintained by less than the thread of a string
and sometimes lost despite the hope of millions.
Its frailty and end are obvious,
but its strength and limits endless.
So share your life with me while we are together
so we can create that which will bring joy to others.
When this life is over,
let the meaning of our lives be found not on a list of accomplishments,
but in the hearts and souls of the people
with whom we shared our fragile existence.
Let our lives not be measured so much by what we did for others,
but by what we helped people do for themselves.
-- Mike Gass, June 1982
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Unspoken
Dear Friend:
Please put it behind you;
let it go for awhile.
You`re too lost in mourning;
lighten up, try to smile.
I know it`s a tragedy.
I know how you must feel,
but you must just get thru it,
move on so you`ll heal.
I just can`t stand to see you in pain.
I know if you try you`ll be happy again.
Dear Friend:
The person you still want me to be is gone,
locked away,
and I don`t have the key.
I`m really not choosing to be like this,
but my life is pure feeling,
clenching me like a fist.
There`s a bleak, somber moat
between me and the world,
the draw bridge so heavy,
splintered edges so cruel.
When I venture out strongly,
the pain wraps me still,
colors my actions, saps at my will.
So please, don`t give up though
I`m hopeless and lost.
Our friendship`s true value reflects in it`s cost.
`this poem is from the book by Genesse Bourdeau Gentry,
Stars in the Deepest Night, After the Death of a Child?
Her daughter died in a car accident in 91.
To order the book from Amazon...click on the title below.
Stars
In the Deepest Night, After The Death of A Child
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While
We Are Apart I Will Hold You In My Heart
and Never Let You Go
Distance may separate us,
But my heart will never let you go,
For I carry a part of you
With me always
It keeps me going through the day
It brings a smile to my face
And tears to my eyes
It is a part of my dreams
That I live for and cherish
That part is my wish, my only one,
To see you again soon
I know that wish will someday come true,
But for now I will hold in my heart
The memory of you
And never let you go
Author Unknown
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