Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of biblical lore--
While I nodded, slightly sneezing, suddenly I felt uneasy,
As of some fate gently teasing, teasing at my very core
"'Tis superstition," I muttered, "teasing at my very core--
Only this and nothing more."
Ah, I remember this and more, it was during the recent War,
And beyond my chamber door, my child was somewhere, in the Corps.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;--vainly I had sought to borrow
From the Good Book ease of sorrow--sorrow from the tales of war--
From the TV news and stories, all that stirred up my own worries--
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken voiced debate of missing soldier's likely fate
Thrilled me--filled me with fantastic terrors never felt til late;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
"Lord it's you I am entreating in Jesus' name," my fear retreating
"Give a mother's wish a hearing, for sake of a child that's gone to war,
One request and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Lord," said I, "and Jesus, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was reading, and found a verse I'm heeding,
And deeply I am needing, needing to see my son once more,
Spare him, I humbly beg you"--here I lay prone on the floor--
Silence came and nothing more.
Deep into that silence, listening, long I lay there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lord?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lord!"--
Merely this and nothing more.
Rising to my feet and turning, all my soul within me burning,
I recalled John fourteen: thirteen, and Jesus' promise enduring
"Surely," said I, "what I ask in His name, ANY thing, He said the same
For the glory of God's fame, This He'll do, and no mistake
No miracle need He now make, it's just a life He need not take
"And let my son come home..." I spake.
Two weeks later came a tapping, on my door a gentle rapping,
As of one reluctantly knocking, knocking on my own front door.
Two officers were on my porch, at sight of them my heart did lurch,
And o'er their forms my eyes did search, search for what I knew they bore.
A telegram from the Defense Department, shattering my own comportment,
My son to his own little apartment, his wife and kids and their bookstore,
He would return to....nevermore.
Some tell me now that God listen to my prayer, while tears did glisten,
But answer came back from the distance: 'No.' And though it surely pained him,
He had a plan, my son was taken, to His breast, not one foresaken.
To them I show the bible pages, while within my sorrow rages,
And I ask these corner sages, where in all the verses blessed
Came this idea on which they rest the rationale that God did jest?
I will allow that God knows best, but where's the footnote? Do they know?
Why God would tell a loved one....No?
Over many a quaint and curious volume of biblical lore--
While I nodded, slightly sneezing, suddenly I felt uneasy,
As of some fate gently teasing, teasing at my very core
"'Tis superstition," I muttered, "teasing at my very core--
Only this and nothing more."
Ah, I remember this and more, it was during the recent War,
And beyond my chamber door, my child was somewhere, in the Corps.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;--vainly I had sought to borrow
From the Good Book ease of sorrow--sorrow from the tales of war--
From the TV news and stories, all that stirred up my own worries--
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken voiced debate of missing soldier's likely fate
Thrilled me--filled me with fantastic terrors never felt til late;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
"Lord it's you I am entreating in Jesus' name," my fear retreating
"Give a mother's wish a hearing, for sake of a child that's gone to war,
One request and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Lord," said I, "and Jesus, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was reading, and found a verse I'm heeding,
And deeply I am needing, needing to see my son once more,
Spare him, I humbly beg you"--here I lay prone on the floor--
Silence came and nothing more.
Deep into that silence, listening, long I lay there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lord?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lord!"--
Merely this and nothing more.
Rising to my feet and turning, all my soul within me burning,
I recalled John fourteen: thirteen, and Jesus' promise enduring
"Surely," said I, "what I ask in His name, ANY thing, He said the same
For the glory of God's fame, This He'll do, and no mistake
No miracle need He now make, it's just a life He need not take
"And let my son come home..." I spake.
Two weeks later came a tapping, on my door a gentle rapping,
As of one reluctantly knocking, knocking on my own front door.
Two officers were on my porch, at sight of them my heart did lurch,
And o'er their forms my eyes did search, search for what I knew they bore.
A telegram from the Defense Department, shattering my own comportment,
My son to his own little apartment, his wife and kids and their bookstore,
He would return to....nevermore.
Some tell me now that God listen to my prayer, while tears did glisten,
But answer came back from the distance: 'No.' And though it surely pained him,
He had a plan, my son was taken, to His breast, not one foresaken.
To them I show the bible pages, while within my sorrow rages,
And I ask these corner sages, where in all the verses blessed
Came this idea on which they rest the rationale that God did jest?
I will allow that God knows best, but where's the footnote? Do they know?
Why God would tell a loved one....No?