We Miss You So

Hastily we entered the room,

but you had already gone.

Left behind was your tiny body

still wrapped in your Mother's arms,

The pink blanket snug.

Your eyes closed

as though you were asleep,

But you weren't!

The emptiness and pain

was so heavy it took away my breath.

The saddness in your Father's eyes

as he tried to comfort your Mother,

was pure agony.

Untraveled was the pain and hurt.

We said goodbye to a soul that had already gone.

Leaving us empty and alone.

We'll see you again one day

in all your glory and form.

But until then,

We miss you so!

To my Granddaughter:
Haley Rae Griggs 7/23/10 - 7/23/10

There are no words that can describe the loss of a child,
The pain that a mother and father feels.
I have never felt that pain, but I have seen it.

Christopher Begin…

I never met Christopher, in person per say.
I never saw his smiling face, on a bright sunny day.
Or the way he made you laugh,
When you thought your cloud was gray.

He possessed everything a good person should.
And a long life was expected because of this good.
What is life?
The breath from beginning to end.
What is end?
Except, to return to, the begin.

The breath in between
Whether it is long or short
Is what we hold on to,
After the body departs.
He leaves behind his spirit, that intangible thing,
We remember and celebrate.

You say he never married
Or had children to raise.
You said he should have done these things
Before he went to his grave.
But that’s not why he was given to you.

His parents had a child
Like they were suppose to.
They brought him to you after, the begin.
For you to breath with his spirit until the end.
The end of this journey is just the next step back.
Back to where we all began.

I never met Christopher
But his spirit I knew.
And one day mine,
He will know also.


*(This Poem was written to a very dear friend of mine after her young nephew had just lost his battle with cancer.)

My Dear Friend ______, May 7, 2005

You told me you did not understand poetry. So the best way for me to explain it is to say, “It’s just a book in a very condensed form”.

I could write a book about Christopher but it would take years or I could write this poem for you to read between your tears.

You said you cannot make sense of what has just happened and I could give you words of cliché, but you know that is not me. So here is what I have to say.

Until our breath cease
And we meet at the begin,
If you still have questions,
They can be fully answered then.

Your Dear Friend,

Minnie Patmon-McLaurin

Tsunami Cry

A scream forms
In the depths of my soul,
Never to reach the surface.
I open my mouth
But nothing comes.

The harder I try,
The air is not dry,
I gasp for breath
But none comes.

I cry to my G_d
Without words,
And he answers me not.

Life rushes by
On waves of rage,
Carrying silent screams
That float and die.

NINE O THREE

Time stood still, forever.
Children’s laughter,
Smiling faces,
Chubby cheeks,
Never to be complete.

Laughter clung
On Angels wings.
A smile froze
In a Blast.

I stepped over.
Now I reside.
A parallel universe.
On the other side,
Of the Blast.

In the twilight
I visit.
I see the roses you leave,
In my Brass Chair.
They have no thorns
For me.

The fragrance is sweet.
Like your love and pain.

A cool breeze at dawn.
In the shade, of
The Survivor tree.
My whisper rustles
The leaves,
On a hot summer day.

You knew me
Before Nine O Three.
Just know
I’m free.

Midnight Cinema

Curtains rise as shadows fall
The players assemble.
In an instant the director calls,
“Action” and they assume their positions.

Past haunts,
Rise up and present themselves.
Thespians of psychological hurts,
Take their places
And start the midnight charade.

Twisting and turning thoughts
Over and over in my head.
Dredging and blaming
Telling me, “You wish you were dead!”
“You wish you were dead”.
As torment and torture
Take center stage.

Questions, rise to the forefront,
“Why did he have to die?”
“Why did she go?”
“What did I do wrong?”
Crowded, fighting for space,
Anger, bitterness, fear and hate.
Trying to present their best case.
Unforgiveness stands.

As lids close
To welcome the night
The players exit
Stage right.



Written by: Minnie Hayes Patmon-McLaurin on 5/11/05

This poem was written based on a statement by one of my seminary professors (Dr. Brent Ferris) at the American Christian College & Seminary in Oklahoma. He was teaching a Christian Counseling class on forgiveness. He stated that people sometimes say they forgive someone, but at night they rehearse the wrongs done to them in the “Midnight Cinemas of their Minds.”

Fathers Eyes

Father died, so they said
But he didn’t leave.
We buried him
And marked the grave.

I was there
When he drew his last breath.
So, to his death
I can attest.
His physical body
No longer exists.

I was there when
They lowered the casket
And shoveled dirt upon it.
The time was sad
And filled with tears.
The fact, he wouldn’t be here
For future years.

But I saw him
He lives, I am convinced.
His hands I saw
On a grandchild of mine.
His love for the land
I saw in my brothers’ hand.
Garden full with tomatoes, beans,
Greens, and assortment of other things.
His eyes of blue/gray
I saw in Akiem.


By: Minnie Patmon-McLaurin 1/6/05

Rusty

Abandoned love
Tossed aside,
Left behind
By some reside.

Affection gone
So must you,
From my house
The less I knew.

Left, for someone
Else’s love.
Found, handled
With kid gloves.

Draw close
Without a doubt.
Given love,
Thought without.

Inside I stay,
To venture not.
Calico loves’
All I’ve got.