Hands feel like ice;
clasped together tightly
during a morning of mourning.
You see-
feelings I have daily
quake inside me for the loss
of strangers I've never met-
Its been a month now;
reading and sifting through
what is fact to fiction and its
not enough to just feel sad,
there is a yearning within to
do more, as a writer, a mother
and a human being.
Nine souls perished in a crash
upon a hill, as clouds engulfed
their spirits so that their light
was hidden from human eye-
but I felt them leave,
and its breaking me.
I cant begin to fathom
what poems are buried,
hidden deep inside the family
left behind, because my words
wont allow me to stay quiet.
I need to write for them-
their smiles are embedded
upon that hill, imprinted
like cryptic messages
that shall remain
timeless, for all eternity.
Emphatic tears
flood my mind
as sadness drowns
my soul, and it hurts me
deeply- I can't explain this.
