Where Love Goes

She came with the early morning light,

A rainbow waking with the sky,
June held her gently in its arms,
That was nineteen ninety-three.

And every June came back again,
With candles, laughter, little things - 
But this June came with empty hands,
And memories on quiet wings.

Where does love go
When the one we love is gone?
Does it fade into the evening,
Does it disappear with dawn?
No… love looks for another door,
Another heart, another road - 
And when it cannot hold you anymore,
It finds someone else to hold.

Sixty children stood in line,
The tailor measured every one.
“One hundred fifty metres, Madam,
That should be enough when we are done.”

She quietly said, “Order eight hundred.”

He looked at her.
“Eight hundred? Why?”

“Five dresses each,” she softly said,
“I only want to see them smile.”

And then came bags and bottles too,
Lunch boxes packed with care,
A little chocolate tucked inside,
A name placed everywhere.

Nothing thrown into a waiting crowd,
Nothing simply passed along - 
Each child would know, for one small day,
This was chosen just for me.

Where does love go
When the one we love is gone?
Does it fade into the evening,
Does it disappear with dawn?
No… love looks for another door,
Another heart, another road - 
And when it cannot hold you anymore,
It finds someone else to hold.

Her father watched in quietness,
There was little left to say.
He watched a mother turn her grief
Into cloth and thread that day.

Eight hundred metres on the floor,
Seven days of needle and seam,
Hands kept working late into the night,
Stitching love into a dream.

And on the twenty-first of June,
Sixty children dressed anew,
Five little sets for every child - 
And perhaps the sky smiled too.

They may never know the story,
They need not know her name.
They only need to feel the warmth
Of a love that still remains.

For love does not end
When a heartbeat disappears.
Sometimes it becomes a garment,
Sometimes laughter through our tears.
Sometimes love just changes direction
When there is nowhere else to go - 
From a daughter held within our arms
To sixty children we may never know.

And somewhere beyond the June clouds,
Where rainbows quietly start,
A daughter lives in sixty smiles…

And forever,
in her parents’ hearts.