Young: a 'poem'

I'm certainly not a poet.  Nor do I have all the answers.  But I had another one of 'those days' as a bedside nurse that has to be written about in some way.  The things we witness, well, let's just say, help to put things in perspective. So here it is, a wordy,muddled mix of my thoughts on the meaning of life (or something like that):

Young

She was too young

And another life slips through my fingers

I am but a bystander

Helpless as the rest

Wordless, for what can abate this climax of suffering?

This corner of humanity

Face to face with our enemy:

Death

Awaiting in the shadows

Snatching, stealing, devouring

tearing down what took a lifetime to build

Accompanied by pain, an ocean of sorrow

Tears

Who can watch and not cringe?

Who can stare at this hollow shell and not long to look away?

Soon her days will be forgotten, dust in the wind

Her pronouncement echoes against the walls

Is it for me too?

For us all?

How can this be?

Oh Hope

We need you

Here

Young

He is so young

This life in my arms

I am his mother

Wordless, for what can describe this rosy cheeked and bright eyed wonder?

Home

Face to face with love and

Life

Like dawn triumphing over the darkest night

Sweeping over, around, and through every misery

My moments of earlier despair- forgotten, vague

Now I am accompanied by laughter, joy and a heart that is filled to overflowing

Who can watch him, this little boy, and not marvel?

Who can stare at his sweet self and not long to leap and smile?

His days before him, a future

A whole life

O Hope,

You are here.

Death where is your victory?

Death where is your sting?

[And that, is the gospel, the message of Christianity]:

Suffering it shall cease, sorrow it shall end

Triumphed over by life everlasting

Which is ours alone in the One

The One who died so we can live

The One who triumphed over sin and death with His very life

And He won

His name is Hope

His name is Jesus

The light of His love has engulfed death and despair, once and

for all

He is waiting

Who will choose Him?

O why,

Would anyone choose death instead of life?

Sorrow instead of hope?

Darkness instead of the light of dawn?