It is not the death of youth <br />that shocks us into grief, <br />but the sucker-punch reminder <br />we were never in control. <br /> <br />We cultivate our children <br />like fresh spring bulbs, <br />nurturing the blossoms, feeding <br />the roots, wrenching the weeds <br /> <br />around the tender stem. <br />The backlash of violence <br />is nature's thorn prick, <br />the stabbing truth that <br /> <br />despite our tireless tending, <br />our perfect homes <br />and pure intentions, <br />we will never <br /> <br />spade every flaw <br />in the flowerbed, <br />every stone in the soil <br />slowly choking the roses.<br /><br />Lori Boulard<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/006-columbines/
