MICHAEL DOM

No words, my friend, bring back the dead
No thoughts conveyed, nor tears we shed
Recede the loss, nor ease the pain.
Silent, alone, we hear the rain
Not words, my friend.

What mute verse can I send instead?
When consoling words become vain –
Not thoughts, not tears, God sends us rain.
His words, my friend.

In life we struggle till the end
Joy, grief and peace swing hand-in-hand
Seek hope – do not avoid sweet pain
For this wisdom comes, like the rain,
That after grief we understand
God’s love, my friend.