We are conceived
and float to an existence
Expected to grow old
Then are returned to the earth
From whence we came
To become one with the forevermore
In between we fall and rise
We laugh and cry
And the lucky ones find love
The paths all differ
Yet is the same road tread
Some as common, some as czar
But I have come to believe
Some souls are just too beautiful
For a mere shell of flesh to hold
That some are borne of the heavens
To ride comets and meteors
Not for our ways to shape and score
For how does one contain
Sunlight and moonbeams
This is what our child was made of
Thus, we come to lay down to sleep
The one who had not the chance to wake
As into this earth we dedicate a star.
‘Some souls are just too beautiful for a mere shell of flesh to hold’… sigh yes I think so too! 💞
I think this is a wonderful thought… this is what makes me believe that there is a soul and not merely flesh and bones… wonderful thoughts
We are a soul who has a body, not a body who has a soul. Your poem is pragmatic, yet tinged with sadness, burying a child iks a torment.
your lovely poem brings to mind a line from don mclean’s song, “vincent”: “this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.” your sweet child shining among the heavens
Such a beautiful poem, and lt left me crying. I didn’t bury a baby, I buried my 18-year-old son. He is eternally young in my heart… this poem was derply moving!
Nice line: “To become one with the forevermore”
This is so poignant. The second half of the poem is especially beautiful.
I believe this to be true. There are some souls that hold more energy than they can use here on earth. Thank you for this heartfelt poem.
their bodies could not contain their glorious spirit, your poetry is so touching,
We lost a daughter at 7 1/2 weeks old, she was beautiful, for that moment we had her she would simply grasp my finger and look up at me with air hungry grey eyes before catching her star. Your poem makes me think of a quote from Joseph Smith that gave us comfort:
“I have meditated upon the subject, and asked the question, why it is that infants, innocent children, are taken away from us, especially those that seem to be the most intelligent and interesting. . . . The Lord takes many away even in infancy, that they may escape the envy of man, and the sorrows and evils of this present world; they were too pure, too lovely, to live on earth.”
we have the words “too pure, too lovely, to live on earth.” on our Sarah’s memorial. Thank you for this poem.
And… we have also mourned miscarriages, had many, and there is not an adequate space in this world to memorialize that loss. “made of moonbeams…” oh I wish every blessing, and a measure of joy in the caress of moonlight for you.
“That some are borne of the heavens
To ride comets and meteors
Not for our ways to shape and score”
Indeed. Some souls cannot be grasped. This is a terribly sad but holy account of loss and peace.