Garden of Hope

He had life
his body couldn't support.
He had heart
the heavens had to break.

It took me seven years
to see through the tears,
enough to pick up this pen,
thinking if I did
I'd be signing his notice of eviction.

He chose a wall
to knock upon
knowing who sat across
thinking I was the best carrier
for this dire message
but it fell on the way
I wasn't strong enough to carry
or fight this angel on earth,
after all,
he was here as a courtesy
since birth.

Pounds to his chest
rhythmically corresponded
to the desperate sirens
I remembered knowing
I would never forget the
flashing lights.
They say now he is gone
from the world we know,
pounds to his chest,
but he is all I know.

We used to play on the grass
and now we are separated by it.
We were caught by an unfair surprise
as I wait for his quiet reprise.

It's time for living
and loving memory.
For not losing
but taking what he left.
I see now why I need art,
hand to chest,
we have the same heart.
Maybe mine will be the next to break,
maybe then I will finally wake.