He took one life but gave back two.
How flows the divine arithmetic I cannot sum
when a daughter’s death does him benumb
Yet another of His mysteries none too few.
Reaped he the bitterness of harvest shame,
but comes each night to pray his grief.
A nightmare did a dream become a fallen leaf
brought them soon two miracles came.
He taketh, He giveth in this, His world,
for them our love always who live no more.
Their souls depart and forever soar,
cover them gently with love’s blanket unfurled.
He standeth before Whom this father dost weep,
struggles to listen to sounds now mute.
Recorded in time ago on memory’s flute,
turn from this ground in which our tears do seep.