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Poems of Grief
By Lisa Davenport
Sometimes
Sometimes your memory will push its way into my mind.
It's not that I don't want to think of you, or that I
don't miss you terribly.
But, that in remembering you brings tears into my eyes
and an ache into my heart.
Makes me remember with your memory, all the pain and
makes afresh the wounds inside my soul.
Makes the emptiness overwhelm me, until I cannot feel
anything but hurt, and anger, and helplessness.
Never will I forget you, or stop hurting.
But hope sometime when your momory pushes its way into
my mind, that it wont be so hard to remember you.
And maybe even smile at heaven, knowing you are there.
Voice on the Wind
Your daddy's at work,
brother and sister are picking berries.
the sun is shining bright, the wind blowing softly.
I love to hear their voices waif over the wind,
laughing, the laugh you'll never hear.
calling me, the name I'll never hear you speak, mommy.
their friends are with them, you'll never know them
either.
but, I hear your voice on the wind........
The Shoe Box
The shoe box holds reminders and momentoes.
The seashell saying babies first christmas,
given by a well wisher.
The prayer from a nurse who became our friend, and
shed tears for you and us, even before the end.
The pamphlets the hospital gave us on grief.
Sympathy cards from friends.
The obituary stating your name,
and saying you really existed.
The funeral home bill and precious record book,
that friends signed.
The bulletin from church letting us know they cared.
The silver photo album your grandmother bought, to
hold the pictures of your breathless form in mine and
daddy's arms.
The bear that was on your spray from aunts, uncles,
and granny.
These are all we have to remember you by.
These and the pain that is etched into every strand of
our being.
Whispers
I whisper your names....
to myself.
I whisper....Happy birthday, and I love you.
I whisper....I still think of you.
I whisper....Goodnight and till we meet again.
I whisper....Take care one another and hope your angel
ears can hear my whispers here on earth.
I whisper....because I am afraid that if I speak too
loud, my heart will hear and break again....
So I just whisper........
A Conversation With God
When I would ask "why did you make her have
abnormalities?
He would answer, "not abnormalities, uniqueness."
When I would say "why are you doing this to us!"
He would answer "not doing, but allowing this."
When I screamed "I cant live if you take her"
He answered "I am what sustains you..."
When I prayed "let this cup pass from my lips"
He said "pray for what is best for her"
When I begged on my knees "Heal her, make her well"
He said " all things work for the good of those who
love me"
When I held her still body and sobbed "it is over"
He said "It has only begun"
When I asked how? How can I help anyone when I am in
this pit?"
he said "slowly,,, you will heal and comfort others."
This was written in the middle of the night and I
fully believe that my daughters inspired this as I had
been working on a memorial service at the UTMB
Hospital in Galveston Texas the very next day, and had
wanted something that really spoke from my heart. In
the middle of the night this just was woven in my heart
in a few minutes, with tears I booted the computer and
has this printed in less than 10 minutes. I hope it
has comforted you some.
About the Author
Lisa Davenport is a mom, a wife, and a writer. She has experienced family
loss many times, including the loss of her two infant daughters and her mother.
She has since come to the aid and support of many other parents who have
experience loss and shares her experiences.
All poems copyright Lisa Davenport, permission must be granted before using elsewhere.
For more Family Remembrance features visit our Index.
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