Not one of us passes through life without being touched by death and grief. Initially, I had only a handful of poems dealing with that topic. I did not feel a specific category on death and grief was necessary for this website. Sadly, after the loss of a child (my youngest son) in 2018, that has changed. This new topic includes 40 poems on death and grief, written as part of my own grieving process. I hope this category helps other bereaved parents find and use them as part of their own healing from the loss of a child.
FINDING THE POEM YOU WANT: As you scroll through this section, simply read each snippet sample (usually the first four lines) to get a feel for the poem. When you find something you like, click “CONTINUE READING” to view the entire poem.
(My poems about death are here for non-commercial purposes only. Please include full copyright information on every copy, emailing a request for permission before using. For internet use, a link back to this site is required. May peace and comfort be yours on this difficult path.)
When Todd is watching me, I hope he sees
more things that please than things that give him pause.
I would not cause him grief – that’s my domain –
but surely human pain feels softer there,
where earth and flesh and loss no longer reign.
Today, this long-awaited day,
such bright son-light emerged!
A sacred purpose was fulfilled
as heaven and earth converged.
The world says you live on in me.
I can’t deny that’s true.
My heart and mind are always filled
with memories of you.
You fell to our arms
from star-filled skies,
the dream in our hearts,
the light in our eyes.
So softly you landed,
so sweetly you lay,
and we claimed you forever
that very first day.
even the metaphors miss you
like that word to tie
the other words together
framing images in phrases
like worlds that co-exist
but miss each other
in a universe apart
I never felt strong stirrings
about angels in the past.
Their role for me was limited
and, by me, rashly cast.
I fill up notebooks with my pen
to mourn you, son…again…again.
The lasting loss, the hollow heart,
the ache of living far apart.
We came here every year
for years and years.
It was our jam.
We’re gathered here again
at last, but now
you’re on the lam.