Poem: "Tribute to Newtown" by Adam Trudel

There is a place prepared for little children,

Those we once lived for, those we deeply mourn,

Those who from play, from learning and from laughter,

Cruelly were torn.

         There is a place where hands which held ours tightly

         Now are released beyond all hurt and fear,

         Healed by that love which also feels our sorrow

         Tear after tear.

There is a place where all lost potential

Yields its full potential, finds its true intent;

Silenced no more, young voices echo freely

As they were meant.

         There is a place where God will hear our questions,

         Suffer our anger, share our speechless grief,

Gently repair the innocence of loving

And of belief.

Jesus, who bids us be like little children,

Shields those arms our arms are yearning to embrace.

God will ensure that all are reunited;

There is a place.