~Written in respose to a couple's news that their baby will be born dead.~
Our Prayers Ascend
Beneath the bank of blackened clouds, our prayers
ascend to Him who understands the pain
that grows within your inmost being. These cares,
with which you now must come to terms, won’t wane
with time, for some despairs refuse to die,
though life goes on as April tulips bloom—
and every time the thunder rolls, your eyes
will flow with tear’s precipitating gloom.
Yet still our prayers for you ascend to Him
who knows firsthand the hollowness your heart
feels every time it beats; the seraphim
dispatch our pleas: Shalom He will impart.
Fear not! Elijah’s chariot will take
his soul to heaven, far beyond death’s wake.