poured out before bed
In the pink and lavendar lines traversing billowing apricot clouds, the random, yet perfectly placed rays meandering through such color, preparing for day’s withdrawal.
In the lacy outline of sun-drenched conifers snuggled amongst autumn-gold touched maples, the sparrows who flit nonchalantly about splendor.
In the cozy mist blanketing a deep green lawn tucked in close by that striking ring of trees, the asynchronous volleys of delicate white gnats firing into the silver-blue from the grass beyond our tread.
In the polite white clover and the quiet purple creeping charlie, the intermittent fluff of a seeding dandelion softening our steps.
In your daddy’s arm wrapped tight about my waist, the smell of his cologne mixed with the scent of rain, the lilting bird calls and the gentle crashing waves which drench this space in song.
In all these things, you are there.
But you are not there… You are in a place of beauty beyond description, a place of peace and loving company I cannot fathom. And I know you are well.
Yet, we miss you. We miss the promise of a life completed too soon. We miss all of the firsts, the dreams. We miss the wonderful and awkward joys that come with love and growth.
Indeed, we have grown this year without you, but we have not grown away from you. Mommy and daddy love you still more.
Happy birthday, Josephine Isabelle Whine.