The Message

Written by: Joyce Johnson

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.