ut as quiet and pure as the whisper of a breath,
you left, and the hurt was too painful,
and too deep for me to understand.
I clung to the emptiness
of that deep, ripping pain.
No one could comfort
the silent cry in the pit of my soul.
Every day, I labored
to hold my face high,
but I could only rest it
in my hands and cry.
felt the touch of God's hand on my heart
as I laid you in the tiny little grave.
"In His Hands" it read on the stone.
I knew you were safe
and cuddled in His hands,
but I didn't realize
it would be unbearable
to continue through each day thereafter;
And that there was more comfort
and trust that I had to put in God
to heal my tears.
ow I know,
I had to give
that torn part of my heart to God,
and along with the pain
I gave Him my tears.
~ By Julie Bergeron ~