Saturday, June 17, 2006

In Memory Of Owen


There is a Swamp Oak planted across the street in memory of our little grandson. The Oak could one day be the biggest tree in the cemetery. It has grown since the kids planted it four years ago. It has been decorated with charming adornments. We keep an eye on the tree and the tree watches over us.

Our daughter wrote a poem for Owen's first birthday. It was a miracle he was still with us as he was not expected to live even 24 hours. His Mom and Dad had dug down deep into themselves and gave their son a remarkable, sacred life.

For Owen

on the occasion of your first birthday

Three hundred and sixty-five days ago

you gurgled into this world,

trailing heaven's remnants on

still soft heels.

Three hundred and sixty-five days ago,

you tumbled from peace,

seized our tongues, our

petty loves choked in the throat.

You blinked us awake again,

three hundred and sixty-five days ago,

your struggling spark rekindled our own,

hushed beneath the mindless ash

of experience.

Three hundred and sixty-five days

ago,

your tiny, noble heart

made us new.

For Owen's Memorial Tree Planting Ceremony she wrote another poem. She made a lovely booklet with both poems and a photo of his tree. These she hand printed for friends and family.

For Owen Almost

Five Years After

You, no less

the whole world if

you never knew

the everywhere you are;

the muteness of trees

doesn't quiet their breathing.

Let today's park be quiet.

Let silent stones see.

Let breath return.

Let us know what stones know

and trees:

the music in branches

is the breeze

of every breath

familiar.

3 comments:

Sprite said...

Thank you for sharing such profound beauty and sacredness with us.

Owen will never be forgotten.

The poem by your daughter is utterly beautiful, as is her writing in the book of Owen.

I am honored to have read such sweet, gentle and loving words.

This is grace beyond anything I can imagine.

I am deeply touched.

There are no words.

Q said...

Thank you.
It is an honour to share.

Owen is a loving spirit.


There are no words.

Jane Taylor said...

Beautiful poetry in loving memory of a sweet child.