I don't usually like poems about grief, they are too...cliche and trying to pretend everything is all better in the end. I don't like that. But I liked this one, at least most of it. I changed some words though and put in Gavin's name instead. The original version was written by G. Bradford in memory of a little girl named Janet who was murdered on her way to school.
A Sparrow FellA sparrow fell- and no one heard.
Nobody cared. It was just a bird.
From all the numberless flitting throng
Of sparrows, who could miss one song?
But God leaned down and whispered, "I care.
It was one of my sparrows, and I was there."
A little boy, all sunshine and laughter,
(and sometimes scoldings, with kisses after!)
And hurts to smooth over, and deeds to applaud-
A little boy fell! Where were you God?
A little boy fell! God, why weren't you there?
Is it only for sparrows and such that you care?
If you're God at all- then you could have prevented
This nightmare of pain! So you must have consented.
I've always believed You were loving and good.
I'd like to believe still- if only I could.
But God, if You love me, how can You allow
Such unbearable pain as I'm feeling right now?
Such helplessness- hopelessness- bitter regret-
So may tears that have fallen; and yet
So many more that are still locked inside.
Oh, God- out there somewhere- have You never cried?
I'm not even sure, anymore, that You're real.
But if You are, God- Do You care how I feel?
* * * *
Beloved, I care! In the midst of your grief,
In the midst of your stricken and crumbling belief,
In the midst of the blackness of total despair,
In the midst of your questioning, Child- I am there.
In the midst! Not far off in some vague fifth dimension,
But here, where you are, giving you My attention...
My constant attention- and not just today.
Since before you were born, I have loved you this way.
You're important to Me. Every hair on your head
I have numbered Myself! Can these tears that you shed
Go uncounted? Unnoticed? Nay, Child; here I stand
Close enough that each teardrop falls into My hand.
Nor am I a stranger to anguish- to loss.
My own Son was taken one day- by a cross.
I know what you suffer. I know what you'll gain.
If you'll let Me walk with you into your pain.
I'll carry your grief, and your sorrow I'll bear.
You've only to reach out your hand- I am there!
Fear nothing for Gavin. Your dear little boy
Is safe in My house- and all Heaven's a-joy
With the ring of his laughter, and his quick eager smile,
And the things he's saving to show you- "after awhile."
Yes, I could have prevented- but Child, you can't see
With My perfect wisdom. Trust Gavin to me.
Of course you will miss him, but while you are weeping,
Remember, its only his body that's sleeping.
His "self" is awake. Wide awake. As I said,
I am God of the living, not God of the dead.
He trusted Me, and My sure Word comes to pass:
"Who believes shall not die." That includes your lad.
Let me walk with you now, through the long, heavy days;
Let Me slowly begin changing heartache to praise.
Take hold of My hand, Child: Take hold of My love.
I will lead you to joys that you yet know not of.
Your faith may be weak, and your trust incomplete,
But I'll not walk too fast for your stumbling feet.