A Lament for Charlie George
May 2002

Why does the sun still shine?
Why do the birds still sing?
Why isn't the whole world black?
And the sky pouring out its tears?
Why with only a week to go,
Did our baby's life source fail?
Why didn't God stretch out his hand 
And staunch the flow?
Desolation, devastation, emptiness,
Shattered dreams.
Empty arms.

How do you, a god of love and power
Steel yourself to allow your creation
To suffer so?
You saw it happening.
Why didn't you stop the flow?
Or whilst the child was nestled still
Within my daughter's womb,
Breathe life into his tiny form?

A perfect, normal baby boy,
Places there within a crib.
Laying as if asleep,
Picked up and cradled in our arms.
His little head snuggled towards my breast
As if to suckle and draw life.
Breathe! Breathe!
Oh God, have pity.
A miracle, please!
Breathe! Breathe!

No miracle.

Little eyelids, shading eyes that will now never see.
Little ears, perfectly formed, which now will never hear.
Long limbs (how they could have scared us so!)
Big hands and feet, with fingers long.
Tiny blue nails
Showing that some cruel fate had painted them,
With death.
Hair light and curly,
Face so sweet.

Oh God, where were you?
Was it planned?
Some lesson to teach?
Cruel, cruel world.

She is my child, and I can't protect her,
Can't kiss it better,
Or put a plaster on her pain.
I can only stand by, helpless,
And watch my child grieve for her child.
Whilst tears seep from my every pore,
Longing, longing to do more.

Later reflection

Somewhere a light is burning
Where a son, safe in Eternity
Awaits his mum and dad.
Waits to welcome them to a place beyond pain.
There to lead them to the source of all light.
Then they will understand.

written by his Grandma