"The Seed....planted to grow..."

Watermelon Dreams...Loss of a Child...

Watermelon Dreams
Karen Hallenbeck-Sikorsky-George
July 4th, 2006

Dripping down your chin, pink juice, a stray black seed, innocent taste to a place
Imprinted on your tongue, and the thirst that was quenched now ceases go gnaw at
Your inner hunger like a buzzing wasp without a destination, he will land upon a gentle
Flower, never to imprint with pain a stinger of awareness, so futile are your eyes focused
Upon a place beyond the day and night of months, years, and times where the abyss
Is little more than a large barn filled with scents of animals, kept from freedom, do you
Want to buy this song playing somewhere so far away you cannot
Hear the lyrics, or rather sit on this blanket, on new mown grass
Beneath a sturdy oak tree, to eat watermelon, sleep a cat nap and
Find your clarity upon awakening, at the end of yet another lost day
The children are bouncing a light weight ball; bright pink and obnoxious to the eye
Safe until it flies up in the air and lands in the way of a moving car, down the black
Asphalt of the highways, that multiply faster than the innocence of the newborn cry
He raises to the street young pink hands grabbing the ball, and the sound of a
Smash as his once alive presence flies to the top most white cloud, and falls
With an ending thud, and the screams, then dead silence end the summer day
His mother has dark circles beneath her tear stained eyes, she is too
Young to think her life might end, but the nagging emptiness fills her
Barren womb, and her youngest daughter stands solemnly by her side
Waiting for the hug, the kiss on the forehead that she needs, for she
Does not understand her brother is gone, and that the ball will not bounce again
Daddy is working overtime day in and day out, he has become a mad machine
The women filter in and out of the house, bringing food, quiet words spoken in
Caution, and his small bed remains unmade, the door shut, as if he will awaken
One Daddy long leg spider creeps across the rose carpet, and exits the back door
He too free of the grief stricken home, fertile thoughts, lazy grass, weeds beckon him...

She is growing, like a bean sprout, winding in circles of change, skin hue healthy
Rose colored cheeks, eyes of blue, and the door opened, they cleaned out the room
Boxes left on small carts, the bed left too, a scent remained of a young boy after
Play, fresh earthy smell, his baseball hat tipped to the side, and his physical energy
Climbs the walls, even now painted pale yellow, a new baby cries as if in a foreign
Land, and a moment of sadness (like the dot on an i) pounds, sweet sounds again
Mother made the bed, sat hand in hand, crying tears of uncertain
Emotions, talking of heaven, a gate and light that is warmer than sun
Licorice candy, a birthday cake unmade, strawberry ice cream in a
Bowl eaten carefully with a shiny silver spoon, where did he go..
This summer we drove hundreds of miles, and the white sand scratched white feet
By dinner time we baked like lobsters, skin red, itchy and in pain, white vinegar
Soothed our souls, and beyond the gentle low tide and ocean floor a gentle light
Burned silently in a light house issuing safety to boats, travelers, and even the
Child that swam beyond the jetty floor, to her destiny, his voice called "come"
The baby awoke at three a.m., and she was not in her bed, and urgency drove
Her mother barefoot and screaming to the sounds of pounding surf
A storm tide high enough to make eight foot waves, and she knew
Her body could not take the strength of God's hands bringing her in
But a tiny curled form sat on the sand even in total darkness her voice
Carried the song of suffering home, heart pounding hard, skipping beats she ran
Covered her in an embrace of life and death, lifted her high and said "I love you"
Togetherness poured like cement onto the wood form of a sidewalk, and never
Could she leave again, the church bells stopped ringing on Sunday, they packed
The car drove away without a glance back, and ate Burger King and stopped to
Buy a watermelon, fat, ripe and ready to eat, the clean sheets on the bed, night falls...

Father stopped working overtime, and the kitchen awoke with sounds of living
Fried eggs on fall mornings, buttery toast, with jam; a rooster crowing in the distance
Lost boys found and never orphaned, a picnic in the park, just lazy days spent
With love in a heart well missed, but gently place in the hands of a Creator
The smell of gasoline this hot July day, sifts slowly in a steam cloud, and the
Irritation of pumping fuel for that next journey, will not displace the rapture of
This certain day, the fireworks are just sparks of air ignited
Within the lungs of the living, and a band aid on a small cut
Is enough to say "I love you" again and again
Courage is a child's eyes crying out for the love of the lost
The baby is in kindergarten, and blonde haired (flaxen) and she is serious at times
Being born at a time when a brother was lost, gone from the home and family made
She skips with the others, and forgets what is not remembered, for she was not here
In the park, and does not play ball, but is solitary, and draws with colored pencils
The thoughts attached to her heart, in pale pink, sky blue, and at times, blood red
Her older sister is so beautiful, takes her to the mall, and lets her eat ice cream
Ruby red slippers, the field is filled with poppies and the red hair
Of a once child star turned heroin addict reminds her that time
Stops, and then goes, regardless of her empty space left inside
That key locked heart (now worn on a pendant) and one day
He will run again, the car will stop, and he will bounce the ball, and nowhere will
A door shut with the bed unmade, he will raise his own family, and never fail to
Kiss each child on the forehead before bed, take the time to say prayers, and
Bless the life lived, we are not alone, and now the guitar is playing west of here
A lilting solo, and the sounds of lovers in velvet night soothes the beast within
He was my brother, he is my refuge, the lights are out now, watermelon dreams...

To the young, do not grow
Jaundiced, angry, but embrace
The child within us all...