A poem for Findlay

A poem for Findlay

You are not lost, my darling.

One does not ‘lose’
a baby,
as they might their keys, or
an absentmindedly placed
umbrella.

No –
you were loved and
cherished
from the very first moment
you entered our lives:
two tiny blue lines
appearing
one Friday morning.
We had such little time together
my dear;
and yet, we have seen you live
a thousand times.
Your first, uncertain
steps; pencil marks
laddering the kitchen wall;
school plays; sparks
flying over curfew times
and misguided holidays…
We have had you
forever
in our hearts, in our minds.
There is an ache
where you should be.
A longing
for you that never quiets.
My arms feel the weight
of your absence;
my heart breaks
again each morning,
as I wake
to find that you are gone.
Life will continue.
(and isn’t that the saddest part?)
It is an impossibility
that the world still seems
to be turning.
That the seconds
keep on ticking
without you here.
But you can never
be forgotten.
Your star shines brightest
in the blackness
of the sky.
And you are with us
always.
For I carry your heart
with me
(I carry it in my heart)
where it can be mended.
You are woven
into the patchwork
of our story.
We are
forever changed
for having loved
the blessing
that is you.
You, my darling boy,
my small soldier,
my fair-haired warrior,
my eternal ruler:

you are our son.

You shall never be lost.
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