Innocence Awry

This poem is VERY personal to me, especially the imagery, so it may not make sense to you. It's definitely the most metaphorically-laden negative poem I've ever written since it deals with my death on different levels. Enjoy?

She runs toward the wildflower field,

Across the wooden bridge

Tiny outstretched fingers,

Absorb and reflect crystal rays

Bouncy blonde curls awry,

A reflection of the sun

Her eyes smile wide…

 

With the pitter patter of tiny toes

She crosses across the wooden bridge

Slips, springs up

Eyes still smiling

And with a giggle

Presses on,

As in every day past

I cradle her outstretched hand,

And in the field we frolic

As years silently pass

 

But one day she slips 

As she runs toward the wildflower field,

Across the wooden bridge

Tiny fingers trapped by the sun

Blonde curls awry

The pitter patter of tiny toes deceased.

In silence lies

 

Her smiling eyes, her giggle…

She is way beyond my reach.

 

So alone

 

In the wildflower field I stand

Forever, with an outstretched hand…

The crystal sky of past

Rains rays of tears

As God cradles my tiny hand…

“No, let me lie, I deserve the earth.”