Stolen

Stolen
by Vivian Gilbert Zabel

Heavy beats my heart.
Missing two parts
Causes a hole, large,
Leaking life's joy
As long as they are gone.

Each day I pray
God sends my words, my love
Flying to their minds
That they may always feel,
No matter where they be,
I am with them ever.

Knowing not if they live
Or where they could be found,
A yearning, yawning emptiness
Aches within my chest.

Memories overwhelm, as on a visit,
A brown-eyed boy of four proclaimed,
"I missed you with my heart, with my head.
I missed you with my mouth, with my chin,"
While a grandmother inside laughingly agreed.

On a wall, newly painted,
A girl of two with curly locks
Took a pencil, scribbling
"I love you," or so she later said.
Years have passed with the marks still there,
A reminder of her never to be erased.

Photographs, letters written
In childish sprawl
Are all that remain of children stolen,
PaPa's big boy and Granny's girl,
So missed, so wanted, so lost.

My heart keeps beating,
But much is gone.
Dear God, hear my prayer,
Please, bring them home.