(Yesterday a friend of our family went into premature labor. The baby did not make it. This poem was my initial reflection on the passing of Chloe Faith.)
What does one say when words obviously fail?
Sitting, waiting, unsure of what happens next.
One may think it’s time to move on.
While Another whispers “linger, wait a little longer.”
What does one do when everything feels stale?
One says the answer is somewhere in the text.
Others cry, “God, this just seems wrong.”
And He whispers “linger, just wait a little longer”
What does one see when all colors begin to pale?
One clings to whatever’s closest, as the world around falls.
Others struggle to remember a line to any song.
The Whisper comes “linger, just wait a little longer.”
What does one have when God seems to fail?
No one is sure, but this is where we call.
Others scream just to be heard before the break of dawn,
The WHISPER is here; “linger, wait a little longer.”
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