Spring Thaws The Wounded Heart That first spring came too soon why did daffodils show sunny faces around the grave stone why did warm breezes blow clouds away my world, a gray dismal had no room for this season. Now years later the blossoms of love, hope and healing have broken through grounds of utter despair warmed by memories of you I join the daffodils bringing my own smile. |
| Poems to Inspire |
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| The Pinecone Wreath: after the death of a child Instructed to collect pinecones We carried baskets Deep into the forest where Becoming begins Through mud puddles I picked up Sorrow and Despair Easing over an embankment I added Fear, Doubt Soaking feet in a stream Watching a pair of orange butterflies I found Awe, Forgiveness and Hope Under the shadow of the mightiest oak I struggled with Acceptance of A New Life The pinecone wreath I strung together Is lopsided, a mixture of dark and light But it hangs It is as real As I am becoming. |
| His Birthday I wanted to write something grand exhilarating-- a sunset over the snow brushed mountains mighty-- the ocean and seagulls at daybreak A verse or two that would shake the world. I searched for brilliance and found his smile for inspiration and felt his hand I saw my heart filled to have known him and I knew words were not there Words never enough to share that delightful child on his birthday without him. |
| All poems by Alice J. Wisler and inspired by the life of Daniel Paul Wisler--Aug. 25, 1992---Feb. 2, 1997. |
I see them weep the fathers at the stones taking off the brave armor forced to wear in the work place clearing away the debris with gentle fingers inhaling the sorrow diminished by anguish their hearts desiring what they cannot have-- to walk hand in hand with children no longer held-- to all the fathers who leave a part of their hearts at the stones may breezes underneath trees of time ease their pain as they receive healing tears ...the gift the children give. |
| When Fathers Weep at Graves |