| There are some things that
no one can make sense of
There is no vocabulary, or polite prose
capable of calming the storm
No eloquent speech or profound thoughts
that will tame the turbulent sea
Although I have suffered losses of My own
I will not say,
"I know how you feel" I cannot begin to know
what your loss means to you
You are unique and thus, so is your suffering
I can only say that anything I might utter
might seem trivial and incomplete Some things make no sense
and were never meant to
The chatter of kind words �
the conversation of caring
only seems to drown out
the screaming of anquish within �BR>for a time here and there
I have learned that it is in these times that it is the reverence of silent
and unassuming acts of caring
That allows even a tiny flicker of light
to illuminate our path
through the darkness of the storms I am sorry for your loss � | 
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