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Children who die
are not really gone -
But go to a place
that is something like home.
Where they sleep the deep sleep
as quiet as stone -
Until we can join them
when our lives are done.
Children who die
are not really dead -
But just like good children
tucked into bed.
Wait the long wait
while we go ahead -
Till our tales are all told
and our tears are all shed.
Children who die
feel no pleasure or pain -
In the place where they wait
till they see us again.
And all of us dance
in a world washed with rain -
Where the sun shines so brightly
no sorrows remain.
- Nicholas Gordon
