A Taste Of Promise
by Cherie Logan

I finally saw my Marshall in a dream.
I stood before his beautiful coffin as it sat above the ground.
It was open and I gazed upon my tiny son.
He was moving his little arms and legs, plump and beautiful.
I picked him up and cuddled him close.
It was a very physical sensation.
I held him until he fell asleep.
Then someone beside me whispered,
"It is not time yet for his body to be resurrected,
But now you know what it will be like."
I laid my baby back inside his coffin-bed.
My feelings were tenderly grateful, without a trace of sadness.
Now, I look forward with certain promise to our day of reuniting.

As a mother lays her son to rest,
Her tears fall on his little chest.
Thinking his hand was made to mold
Around her finger in a loving hold.

She sits beside him day and night,
His hold on her finger a little tight,
As she tells him how he'll play,
With all his brothers and sisters someday.

In his eyes she sees the pain,
That comes with every breath he gains,
As he struggles to hold his mother tight,
Not yet wanting his spirit to take flight.

Then solemnly he looks at her,
 His eyes full of love,
Flashing a smile for her,
 Brighter then the stars above.

His smile was joyful, and for her alone,
As if to say "I have to go home,
But I love you mother, really I do,
And someday I'll come back to you.

"We were meant to be,
Together through eternity.
I was yours before my birth,
And now I'm still yours on this earth.

"I love you more than I can say,
We are one in many ways.
We have always been,
And were always to be, together,
Before, Now, and Forever