❤ ❤ ❤
River Logan was a full-term stillbirth - I was somewhat conflicted about putting this page up, and then I noted that many of my friends on this site had, in fact, remembered their own stillborns in such a manner.
I cannot tell you much about a little one who did not get the chance to experience life, but we know that he would have done so much - I remember many years later, during the eulogy for John F. Kennedy, Jr., his uncle Ted commented, "...and this was a man who had so many gifts, except the gift of Time." I have never forgotten that, and often associate it with River.
For all parents who have suffered miscarriages and stillborn births, this type of page is, in fact, very healing: I find myself wanting to state again and again, "He was here, if only for a moment,"...it shatters me when I hear somebody coldly state that a family should 'get over a stillborn/miscarriage easier than had the child lived." It is a loss, and it is as deep a wound, that a parent will go through. Children are supposed to grow and live, and...be there.
I write, and so I am lucky that I get alot out in my writing about River, but I am not so arrogant as to quote any of my own work about my boy: instead, I want to quote the poet we quoted in our announcement to friends and loved ones that we'd lost River:
"What I love is near at hand/Always, in Earth
and/Air." - Theodore Roethke
River is forever a part of our lives, and I hope that this page will make him part of yours, as well.
Note: A very heartfelt to my new friend, SSBJ, for sponsoring River's page and putting the peaceful words up...I have some thoughts, myself, on such random kindness: "We will find somewhere else, some time to come, that strangers were simply angels in disguise." (Unknown) And speaking of angels, if you have a moment, please visit the page of Sue's daughter, Rhysa Dawn 'Rhys' Overton .
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
TREE BRANCH ROAD
"My feet will want to walk where you are sleeping..." -Pablo Neruda
Only the broken dirt
Breathes:
How odd, this quiet
Beehive,
With the books carved
Closed,
To be left on vacant
Chairs.
Only the broken dirt
Breathes:
Stones reach through
Ragged dogwood,
To point as a child would
Stretch his hand
Toward the impatient
Heavens.
- Rhonda C. Poynter
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
LULLABYE
You're a foreign star, or a
Small round stone;
A letter that never made it home:
You're half-hitched bones, pale as
Shells -
A fragile birch, a soundless bell.
You're a haunted house in a
Summer storm;
Another bankrupt Indiana farm,
And a handful of words,
A secret rhyme.
You're a clock that had no use for time:
Love, you're more than blondness and
Still blue eyes.
Immaculate, you're forever
Mine.
- Rhonda C. Poynter
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
STILLBORN
"Deep in their roots, all Flowers keep the Light." - Theodore Roethke
Beneath a cradle of flower pollen,
You are a sailor or a
Farmer, or a
Welsh miner with the sunlight at
Your head and in your
Hands.
Beneath a cradle of flower pollen,
You are a
River, stars along your
Small knee:
We bend to that
Light.
Someday, our long bones, too,
Will bloom
Speedwell, bluebells,
Roses.
- Rhonda C. Poynter
------
(Previously published, all rights reserved)
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
(Some of my poetry about River is published on this memorial page at the suggestion, and with gratitude to Sue, who felt that it would not be inappropriate to add these poems - two of them written for him on what would have been his birthdays. They have been published a few times, and seem to help other parents who have lost their children, and I hope that they will help someone else reading about River on this site).
River Logan was a full-term stillbirth - I was somewhat conflicted about putting this page up, and then I noted that many of my friends on this site had, in fact, remembered their own stillborns in such a manner.
I cannot tell you much about a little one who did not get the chance to experience life, but we know that he would have done so much - I remember many years later, during the eulogy for John F. Kennedy, Jr., his uncle Ted commented, "...and this was a man who had so many gifts, except the gift of Time." I have never forgotten that, and often associate it with River.
For all parents who have suffered miscarriages and stillborn births, this type of page is, in fact, very healing: I find myself wanting to state again and again, "He was here, if only for a moment,"...it shatters me when I hear somebody coldly state that a family should 'get over a stillborn/miscarriage easier than had the child lived." It is a loss, and it is as deep a wound, that a parent will go through. Children are supposed to grow and live, and...be there.
I write, and so I am lucky that I get alot out in my writing about River, but I am not so arrogant as to quote any of my own work about my boy: instead, I want to quote the poet we quoted in our announcement to friends and loved ones that we'd lost River:
"What I love is near at hand/Always, in Earth
and/Air." - Theodore Roethke
River is forever a part of our lives, and I hope that this page will make him part of yours, as well.
Note: A very heartfelt to my new friend, SSBJ, for sponsoring River's page and putting the peaceful words up...I have some thoughts, myself, on such random kindness: "We will find somewhere else, some time to come, that strangers were simply angels in disguise." (Unknown) And speaking of angels, if you have a moment, please visit the page of Sue's daughter, Rhysa Dawn 'Rhys' Overton .
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
TREE BRANCH ROAD
"My feet will want to walk where you are sleeping..." -Pablo Neruda
Only the broken dirt
Breathes:
How odd, this quiet
Beehive,
With the books carved
Closed,
To be left on vacant
Chairs.
Only the broken dirt
Breathes:
Stones reach through
Ragged dogwood,
To point as a child would
Stretch his hand
Toward the impatient
Heavens.
- Rhonda C. Poynter
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
LULLABYE
You're a foreign star, or a
Small round stone;
A letter that never made it home:
You're half-hitched bones, pale as
Shells -
A fragile birch, a soundless bell.
You're a haunted house in a
Summer storm;
Another bankrupt Indiana farm,
And a handful of words,
A secret rhyme.
You're a clock that had no use for time:
Love, you're more than blondness and
Still blue eyes.
Immaculate, you're forever
Mine.
- Rhonda C. Poynter
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
STILLBORN
"Deep in their roots, all Flowers keep the Light." - Theodore Roethke
Beneath a cradle of flower pollen,
You are a sailor or a
Farmer, or a
Welsh miner with the sunlight at
Your head and in your
Hands.
Beneath a cradle of flower pollen,
You are a
River, stars along your
Small knee:
We bend to that
Light.
Someday, our long bones, too,
Will bloom
Speedwell, bluebells,
Roses.
- Rhonda C. Poynter
------
(Previously published, all rights reserved)
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
(Some of my poetry about River is published on this memorial page at the suggestion, and with gratitude to Sue, who felt that it would not be inappropriate to add these poems - two of them written for him on what would have been his birthdays. They have been published a few times, and seem to help other parents who have lost their children, and I hope that they will help someone else reading about River on this site).
❤ ❤ ❤
River Logan was a full-term stillbirth - I was somewhat conflicted about putting this page up, and then I noted that many of my friends on this site had, in fact, remembered their own stillborns in such a manner.
I cannot tell you much about a little one who did not get the chance to experience life, but we know that he would have done so much - I remember many years later, during the eulogy for John F. Kennedy, Jr., his uncle Ted commented, "...and this was a man who had so many gifts, except the gift of Time." I have never forgotten that, and often associate it with River.
For all parents who have suffered miscarriages and stillborn births, this type of page is, in fact, very healing: I find myself wanting to state again and again, "He was here, if only for a moment,"...it shatters me when I hear somebody coldly state that a family should 'get over a stillborn/miscarriage easier than had the child lived." It is a loss, and it is as deep a wound, that a parent will go through. Children are supposed to grow and live, and...be there.
I write, and so I am lucky that I get alot out in my writing about River, but I am not so arrogant as to quote any of my own work about my boy: instead, I want to quote the poet we quoted in our announcement to friends and loved ones that we'd lost River:
"What I love is near at hand/Always, in Earth
and/Air." - Theodore Roethke
River is forever a part of our lives, and I hope that this page will make him part of yours, as well.
Note: A very heartfelt to my new friend, SSBJ, for sponsoring River's page and putting the peaceful words up...I have some thoughts, myself, on such random kindness: "We will find somewhere else, some time to come, that strangers were simply angels in disguise." (Unknown) And speaking of angels, if you have a moment, please visit the page of Sue's daughter, Rhysa Dawn 'Rhys' Overton .
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
TREE BRANCH ROAD
"My feet will want to walk where you are sleeping..." -Pablo Neruda
Only the broken dirt
Breathes:
How odd, this quiet
Beehive,
With the books carved
Closed,
To be left on vacant
Chairs.
Only the broken dirt
Breathes:
Stones reach through
Ragged dogwood,
To point as a child would
Stretch his hand
Toward the impatient
Heavens.
- Rhonda C. Poynter
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
LULLABYE
You're a foreign star, or a
Small round stone;
A letter that never made it home:
You're half-hitched bones, pale as
Shells -
A fragile birch, a soundless bell.
You're a haunted house in a
Summer storm;
Another bankrupt Indiana farm,
And a handful of words,
A secret rhyme.
You're a clock that had no use for time:
Love, you're more than blondness and
Still blue eyes.
Immaculate, you're forever
Mine.
- Rhonda C. Poynter
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
STILLBORN
"Deep in their roots, all Flowers keep the Light." - Theodore Roethke
Beneath a cradle of flower pollen,
You are a sailor or a
Farmer, or a
Welsh miner with the sunlight at
Your head and in your
Hands.
Beneath a cradle of flower pollen,
You are a
River, stars along your
Small knee:
We bend to that
Light.
Someday, our long bones, too,
Will bloom
Speedwell, bluebells,
Roses.
- Rhonda C. Poynter
------
(Previously published, all rights reserved)
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
(Some of my poetry about River is published on this memorial page at the suggestion, and with gratitude to Sue, who felt that it would not be inappropriate to add these poems - two of them written for him on what would have been his birthdays. They have been published a few times, and seem to help other parents who have lost their children, and I hope that they will help someone else reading about River on this site).
River Logan was a full-term stillbirth - I was somewhat conflicted about putting this page up, and then I noted that many of my friends on this site had, in fact, remembered their own stillborns in such a manner.
I cannot tell you much about a little one who did not get the chance to experience life, but we know that he would have done so much - I remember many years later, during the eulogy for John F. Kennedy, Jr., his uncle Ted commented, "...and this was a man who had so many gifts, except the gift of Time." I have never forgotten that, and often associate it with River.
For all parents who have suffered miscarriages and stillborn births, this type of page is, in fact, very healing: I find myself wanting to state again and again, "He was here, if only for a moment,"...it shatters me when I hear somebody coldly state that a family should 'get over a stillborn/miscarriage easier than had the child lived." It is a loss, and it is as deep a wound, that a parent will go through. Children are supposed to grow and live, and...be there.
I write, and so I am lucky that I get alot out in my writing about River, but I am not so arrogant as to quote any of my own work about my boy: instead, I want to quote the poet we quoted in our announcement to friends and loved ones that we'd lost River:
"What I love is near at hand/Always, in Earth
and/Air." - Theodore Roethke
River is forever a part of our lives, and I hope that this page will make him part of yours, as well.
Note: A very heartfelt to my new friend, SSBJ, for sponsoring River's page and putting the peaceful words up...I have some thoughts, myself, on such random kindness: "We will find somewhere else, some time to come, that strangers were simply angels in disguise." (Unknown) And speaking of angels, if you have a moment, please visit the page of Sue's daughter, Rhysa Dawn 'Rhys' Overton .
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
TREE BRANCH ROAD
"My feet will want to walk where you are sleeping..." -Pablo Neruda
Only the broken dirt
Breathes:
How odd, this quiet
Beehive,
With the books carved
Closed,
To be left on vacant
Chairs.
Only the broken dirt
Breathes:
Stones reach through
Ragged dogwood,
To point as a child would
Stretch his hand
Toward the impatient
Heavens.
- Rhonda C. Poynter
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
LULLABYE
You're a foreign star, or a
Small round stone;
A letter that never made it home:
You're half-hitched bones, pale as
Shells -
A fragile birch, a soundless bell.
You're a haunted house in a
Summer storm;
Another bankrupt Indiana farm,
And a handful of words,
A secret rhyme.
You're a clock that had no use for time:
Love, you're more than blondness and
Still blue eyes.
Immaculate, you're forever
Mine.
- Rhonda C. Poynter
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
STILLBORN
"Deep in their roots, all Flowers keep the Light." - Theodore Roethke
Beneath a cradle of flower pollen,
You are a sailor or a
Farmer, or a
Welsh miner with the sunlight at
Your head and in your
Hands.
Beneath a cradle of flower pollen,
You are a
River, stars along your
Small knee:
We bend to that
Light.
Someday, our long bones, too,
Will bloom
Speedwell, bluebells,
Roses.
- Rhonda C. Poynter
------
(Previously published, all rights reserved)
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
(Some of my poetry about River is published on this memorial page at the suggestion, and with gratitude to Sue, who felt that it would not be inappropriate to add these poems - two of them written for him on what would have been his birthdays. They have been published a few times, and seem to help other parents who have lost their children, and I hope that they will help someone else reading about River on this site).
