Our Young-Newtown Poem by Lonnie Hicks

When the little ones fall
we bandage their knees
kiss their owies
and send them back to play
when they fall
and their small dream-worlds
question our realities
we do our best to answer all their questions
and thereby
give them what they need
in life to begin
their own quests
for answers
propelled by their childhood dreams.

We see them gather
behind questioning eyes
looking to us for
hope
and guidance
and one day we see them grow
ballooning before
us parents
full of pride.

But when the little ones fall
in a hail of bullets
like today
we know there will be tears in heaven
and short, shorten lives
deprived of their promise
and
too too short
funeral caskets
which rise
buoyed by our own prayers
our collective goodbyes
for the tender
souls
of
our young.

Many tears
in heaven
will fall this day.

Too many tears will fall
in heaven
this day.