He took one life but gave back two …
How flows the divine arithmetic I cannot sum.
When his daughter’s death leaves her father benumb,
Such are His mysteries none too few.
Crushing broad shoulders oh bitterest shame …
yet summons his strength to pray a father’s grief.
He awakens from nightmares as if a falling leaf …
ere long were sent him twin miracles came.
He taketh yet giveth back to this, His world.
Hold them fast ‘til you’ve strength no more …
lest their souls forever depart toward eternity soar.
Blanket them with tenderness gently unfurled.
He sits as if for a portrait and every day weeps …
while recalling yesterday’s laughter now mute.
Nary a faint echo of her schoolgirl’s flute,
that he plays for her, in his memory keeps.
Alan D. Busch