The Lost Gift, A Poem By John Smyth

The Lost Gift
By John Smyth

Wanting personal communication
was lost in isolation
and will wait with suffering.
Each sadly wailing parent
only appreciates in silos of grief
longing for the child in another silo
longing for them,
separated waste assumes
as human thinking shapes all silos.

Your child waits in the same
wanting waiting presence where you wait,
with an equally deep scab wanting to heal.

All can assume wholeness and safe joy
when communication truly assumes
sacrificial appreciation
about your sad quiet place in life together.

Applying another approach
ignores the dignity of your relationship
as parent and child.
It makes him an object to fix.

A quite long assuming time
toasting and shattering all sincerity
in a pledge to be perfect performers
rather than loving parents.

What about our society makes parents like this?
He wants only to be seen
as a quite unique being waiting and longing;
you arrogantly ignore all that God gave,
taking assumption and patient aim
at crushing his uniqueness.

What awful thinking acts as a catalyst
to then assume all wonderful intelligence
is defined as, yes, your view of the world?

All of your other children
sat at your table
as intelligent.
Why not save this one
from the isolation
your thinking put him in?

Each autistic child deserves that.
And the autism
grows worse without it.

Actions may decrease
with controlling drugs,
but healing does not begin.

Say you will think differently,
and then read
what an awesome human being
longs for you
as no one else on the planet
ever has or will.

Assume his intelligence is active,
and your world will change.
Amen. Amen.
Copyright © 2014 John Smyth, All Rights Reserved.

Read more of John Smyth’s poetry and essays on his website, (opens in new window)
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