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Loss and Gain

(My friend mourns his 21-year old daughter's death ... )


He took one from him but gave back two,

How flows the divine arithmetic I cannot sum.

Suddenly his daughter’s loss leaves him all too numb,

yet another are His mysteries none too few.


Reaped he the bitterness of harvest shame,

he comes each night to pray his grief.

At once did dreams shatter in momentary brief,

so soon after to his son, two miracles came.


He taketh, He giveth in this, His world,

for them our love forever but live no more.

Their souls from bodies he doth tore,

cover them 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 away from this ground into which our tears do seep.