Pain and tears flow in the chasm between.
After waiting for many years, one day a miracle happened: and I wait upon the day when another comes.
That first was the birth of my beloved daughter. I waited a long time for her. My Supplier knew her long before she was knitted together in her mother's womb, and I knew her too. If ever a child, this child, was wanted, it was her.
I helped deliver her. 'Twas my eyes that first saw her.
On the way to my tasks after the long night of her slowly making her way into the light, I rode through countryside in the sunrise, singing. This....
My heart was bursting with joy.
She was my Sweet Caroline. My Little Petal.
Life was good. We grew and played together. We were best together.
I adored my little girl.
But the earthquake came, unbidden, and we were dragged away from one another. The cries from both still echo.
The tears still flow.
I pray. She is silent.
The wound weeps.
I await a second miracle, patiently. Painfully. A Cross to Bear.
Meanwhile, I thank Him for my son who is a staunch fellow and, as a mature adult, my good friend.
Pax.
A lovely tribute to your 'Sweet Caroline'.
ReplyDeleteWhen I think of the rift between the two of you it always brings tears to my eyes. It should not be so and I often pray that a small seed of love be planted in the beautiful petal you nurtured. A seed of love that grows towards you xx
Every small prayer adds to the call, Cherie, so thank you 'bigly' :)
DeleteWe hear often of the power of a mother's tears. No less powerful are those of a father. Pax vobiscum.
ReplyDeleteI have shed enough to fill that river in the chasm. Thank you M'dear.
DeleteThink I'd best email about this one.
ReplyDeleteChat in the snug, after hours.
DeleteI understand that Mme Raccoon has recently staged a galaxy class mother & child reunion. There is always hope.
ReplyDeletePoint me to it, sir.
Delete