Sunday, May 06, 2007


The little boy lost in the lonely fen,
Led by the wandering light,
Began to cry, but God, ever nigh,
Appeared like his father, in white.

He kissed the child, and by the hand led,
And to his mother brought,
Who in sorrow pale, through the lonely dale,
Her little boy weeping sought.

William Blake


niobe said...

Maybe Blake didn't mean it that way, but in context it's a heartbreaking poem.

Anonymous said...

Oh wow. This took my breath away for a moment.

The first anniversary of when I lost my little boy in early pregnancy was just May 1st. I used to have these incredible fears and terrifying visions that my son was lost somewhere on some other plane, scared and crying for me, and I couldn't find him. Couldn't hear him. Maybe ridiculous, but we do have some kind of irrational thoughts, yeah? Until one night I confessed this to my husband, who proceeded to tell me this comforting story about his favorite grandmother and how he was sure she was taking care of our baby up in heaven... I'm not really sure how I feel about heaven or dead people all congregating together up there or whatever, but for some reason I've latched on to that and it manages to bring me comfort. I've since largely let go of those fears.

Oh my, I've gotten carried away.

Anyway, all that to say that this little poem struck me as a nice, other way to answer those worries as well... Does that make sense? Anyway, it really impacted me, thank you for posting it. I so love William Blake.

I'm so sorry you're living without two of your children. ::hugs:: from one parent in mourning to another.

Mike said...

That's a heart-warming poem by William Blake.