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RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Silver Star - 9,291 Points (October 6,1950 / New Jersey)

Dying Infant


Holding gently to an infant of beauty and remorse, so tenderly
buoyant and loveable, lying innocently upon a mother's breast,
unknowing except for the heart-wrenching sorrow heard whenever
her voice talks gently to her baby.

Protectively wrapping her arms around the tiny little form of
a baby, a miracle of love that will not last long on this earth,
because it is too precious to the Lord.

All the love of a lifetime must be met and stored in the memory
of it's soul right now, as it silently teeters on the edge of
life, ready to be carried away in God's blessed arms.

Submitted: Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Topic of this poem: poem


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Poet's Notes about The Poem

When I volunteered with the dying children, I especially worked with the families whose infants were not going to be on earth very long. Every moment was touched with tears, and yet so much joy was found in a very short period of timely love. A blessing to have been there in their tiny lives for moments of precious family love, before dying.

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