{CROSSWAYSNET}

(In memory of Webb Davis - Home with the Lord at age 32...)

When once a life that followed
proceeds before us
We are left behind
With and within our grief.


Where tiny fists that grasped
Our extended fingers
Now embrace eternity
We're left with empty hands.

When what we weave
into this life
Is torn from us
It knots the heart.

What grief we bear
in waiting here
As patiently we
await the celebration.

Why must love
now bloom inside
the frames of others
and not our own?

Who can bear
The weight of this
Without the hope
Of pain-borne promises?

We mourn, we pray
We exhale, we fall
And on bended knee
We unleash, unhinge

We mourn what is
Before what was
And what will be
Return to us the joy