Wee JeanieI wish I could sit beside youand hold your hand a while.
I would let you tell me everythingor say nothing at all.
I would tell you that I believe youthat none of it was your fault.
That being frightened didn’t make you weak.That being quiet didn’t mean you agreed.
You carried more than a child should carry.
Yet you still noticed kindness.
The warmth of a cup between your palmsa soft voice in the other room.You still found little reasonsto hope for another day.
A pale square of morning at the curtainsthe clean scent of rain on the path.
I cannot give you back the yearswhen you needed someone there.But I can listen nowwith the lamp turned lowand the quiet held gently between us
I can speak the words you could not say.
Your story has a place in minein every page I write.
And when I use my voiceto help someone elseI carry you with melike a small stone warm in my pocket.
Like a hand held safely through the dark.
Rest here wee Jeanieyou don’t have to be brave today.
Let the blanket settle around your shoulderslet the room grow still.
I am here and I am listening.
We can take the next step together.
All poems