THESE ARE STORIES DEDICATED TO MY BELOVED CHILD, JEREMIAH IN MEMORIAM
IMAGE IS BY LYNN KAUFFMAN
FLOWERS AND LACE by LYNN KAUFFMAN
There is a simple world whose terrain is made of many lush and green rolling hills. The crystal, blue sky overlooks these grassy hills that are dotted everywhere by clusters of small, delicate flowers of all kinds of shapes, colors and sizes. The flowers are painted with the detailed brush of many bright and brilliant colors. A beautiful child with large, sparkling eyes, pink cheeks and lustrous golden hair- dressed in soft and colorful garb, holds a large ball made of lace and filigree. She runs with gay laughter, singing enchanting, simple songs, to the top of one of the hills. She tosses the lacey ball upwards and it soars far into the sky high above her, and hovers there. As it floats in this space, it begins to change from a filigreed ball to an exquisite, shining jewel- a ruby. The child watches this transformation in joyful awe. More fair and laughing children appear holding large balls of lace. They, also, run up to the top of the hills and toss their balls high into the sky. All of the hovering balls change into jewels as well. Some to diamonds, some to emeralds and some to rubies. Soon the rolling hills are filled with beautiful, laughing children and the sky above them is covered with radiant and spectacular jewels.
The floating jewels merge together and form one glorious, magical star that brightens the sky and the hearts of the innocent children. The lovely and delightful children take hold of each other’s hands in love and binding friendship. They sing enchanting, mystical songs with sweet voices in praise of the resplendent and glowing wonder that lives in the sky above them. This blessed and happy scene is from a world that you, Dear Child, once visited before on your journeys within your many new and beautiful world’s of wonder, always!
jeremiahkauffman.deviantart.com
lynnkauffman.deviantart.com
CONTACT: pernetrope11828jkart@outlook.com
jeremiah kauffman 
This is making me want to cry. It is beautifully haunting and still optimistic. If it indeed is reflective of losing a child it has hit harder than anything I’ve read in a long time. Keep writing.
LikeLike