Much of America is mourning still--
Mourning the light extinguished when
Heedlessness embraced false promise;
Mourning the loss of what could have been;

Mourning the hope of a glorious day
Darkened by a cloud of despair
And sincere interconnectedness
Became replaced by vanity fair;

Mourning the loss of a heart that beat
For all and not for a limited few,
And coarseness received people's praise,
And true refinement became taboo;

Mourning a dream of inclusiveness
With all-embracing open arms
When a nightmare smothered it
And drowned out warnings and alarms;

Mourning the flower of optimism
With hope in every opening bud
When weeds with thorns of cynicism  
Flourished, and hope was dripping in blood;

Mourning the renewed freshness of spring
And the calm peace of a summer's night,
Ravished by winds of uncertainty
And the bitter harshness of winter's blight.

Much of America is mourning still.
The grief will end one day. Till then,
We all move forward while many continue
To mourn the loss of what could have been.

- by Bob B (11-25-16)

One day beyond mourning, a new sun to shine
a promise remade, not a cloud in the sky

One day beyond mourning, your spirit still warm
your flesh now at rest, on the hill past the barn

One day beyond mourning, the bed sheets unfold
your shadow uncovered, and now mine to hold

One day beyond mourning, the sun in my eyes
  new words in my heart—a mockingbird cries

One day beyond mourning, my soul free to roam
  your paintings surround me, among them I’m home

One day beyond mourning, I walk to the field
our blanket still hanging, the oak that concealed

One day beyond mourning, I reset my sights
  the day I’ll rejoin you, that heavenly flight

One day beyond mourning, all will broken free
  my name on the wind—as you call out to me

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)