buried dreams

for J and for L, always 

over there in the far corner beyond the well manicured bits of the lawn
lies a little stone
in the grass
with a name
and two dates
that are the same

beneath the stone
all the dreams and hopes
and unwhispered I love you’s
are tucked away

never to be

hearts were broken
especially the one
whose heart he listened to,
the steady beat
preparing him for a life of his own

that was never to be

why can never be known
how, it is futile to ask
instead hands are held
and hugs are longer
and tears flow through smiles and eyes
that try to see the good

casseroles come
as they do
and cards and sorrowful phrases

until they too eventually end

and her hand is as empty
as her arms

and heart

and I wish I could hold her hand now
and hear all her dreams and hopes
all the words she needs to say
or not say
for the little one

who was never able to be

I lean down and trace the letters
of the name I never got to speak
the cheeks I never got to kiss
the eyes I never gazed into,
love intensely shining

the breeze blows and
the tall grass dances
to the tune played by the frogs in the bottom
as the sun sets

another day passes
and the pain remains
how long can she bear what weighs on her heart?
how long can I?

how long before our hands touch
and our tears fall together
tracing a river in the dry wasteland
where we’ve been for so long

far too long

Isaiah 43:19 

For I am about to do something new.
    See, I have already begun! Do you not see it?
I will make a pathway through the wilderness.
    I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.