Questions, Questions

To whom does a child turn when they lose a parent? Grandpapa is a good start. Blessings on you Eve and William.

Papa, tell me you are old
And you should know the truth.
Papa, were you ever told
Of sorrow in your youth?

See all those lines that fan your eyes,
Is that your sorrow showing?
Whenever I see sadness cry,
Will my hair too stop growing?

Papa, will my voice go deep like yours
If this lump in my throat stays put?
Does the sky feel sad whenever rain pours?
Can doors feel pain when they’re slammed shut?

Papa, let me live as long as you
And learn to handle sorrow.
Papa, you are wise; teach me what’s true.

Honey, I’ll try; come back tomorrow.

We live we die and, if we’re blessed,
Our children take our place.
They take our model, practise, test,
And learn from their own mistakes.

Be better that I tell you this,
That life has one true goal –
To find our way through fog and mist
And seek our own true soul.

If someone dares you and you feel
That what they ask is wrong
It’s fear that tells you, ‘It’s no deal,’
And sorrow keeps you strong.

And life’s like that – when our hearts break
And thoughts remove our sleep,
It’s memories when we’re awake
That in our souls we keep.

Now as for old, my honey child,
Yes, Papa knows it’s true,
There is a line for every smile
I make when I see you.

So old and young become as one
In faces that have lines,
And when I’m sad and overcome,
Your high voice swaps with mine.

Each breath we take can make a cloud
That floats away up there,
So all the lives that made a sound
Are round us everywhere.

So Mummy’s breath falls with each drop
Of raincloud from the sky,
Not sadness, but a breath that stops
And hides within your eye.

She’s there inside, and when you laugh
Your eyes can fill with tears.
She shares your fun and so takes part
In all your joys and fears.

Yes, there is pain if in the door
You place a clumsy hand,
But all you do is just make sure
You open all the doors you can.

This is my truth I duly give
To you my darling one,
That Joy and Sorrow both can live,
As day and night, as moon and sun.

So bless each line that fans each face,
Each blade of grass, each leaf,
Bless Joy and Sorrow with your grace,
And in yourself, believe.