The Message

It was a disembodied voice I did not recognize. I heard the words and the alarm. Time for me to arise. He spoke with no emotion, Those words shattering to hear. All day I kept remembering them And shuttering my ear. “Your son is dead”, four little words, I couldn’t bear the sound. Each time the phone rang on that day, My heart began to pound. A week went by and then a month. My fears began to slow. And then one night awakened By a voice this time I know. “Mama, Mama , wake up. I hate to tell you this.” Some how those words were easier Delivered with a kiss. Time has moved on, I’ve healed a bit, But I still wonder why That unknown voice called to warn me That my beloved son would die.