Jesse

We came by one evening and found her,
An empty bottle of pills on the floor.
Scattered white pebbles across the counter,
And a handwritten note beside the door.

Her loss was great and it was hard to cope,
the solemn emptiness, too much to bear.
After Jesse was gone she lost all hope.
I sometimes wonder is life often fair?

It broke her heart, and it broke her spirit.
It never mattered how much faith she had.
And tragedy always helps to lose it.
Does life ever speak on its own behalf?

No answer she found, and chose to depart.
There she laid, hand over her broken heart.

To out live ones’ own, is hard to ponder.
Jesse was a young and curious child-
was energetic and liked to wander.
Then one evening, a storm strong and wild-

Crashes of thunder, flashes of lightning.
The storm progressed, not a sign of Jesse.
Clouds were dark, and the water was rising,
but all were safe, the dam had closed-  barely.

Lightning struck, into the river he fell,
pulled down under, he never rose above.
When he washed ashore, we sounded the bells,
bequeathed to the sky with his mothers love.

A year later she laid herself to rest.
Her last thoughts of a child, whom she loved best.