He took one life but gave back two …

How flows the divine arithmetic I cannot sum.

When his daughter’s death leaves her father benumb,

Such are His mysteries none too few.

Crushing broad shoulders oh bitterest shame …

yet summons his strength to pray a father’s grief.

He awakens from nightmares as if a falling leaf …

ere long were sent him twin miracles came.

He taketh yet giveth back to this, His world.

Hold them fast ‘til you’ve strength no more …

lest their souls forever depart toward eternity soar.

Blanket them with tenderness gently unfurled.

He sits as if for a portrait and every day weeps …

while recalling yesterday’s laughter now mute.

Nary a faint echo of her schoolgirl’s flute,

that he plays for her, in his memory keeps.

Alan D. Busch