Yarden, my beloved.

Today you would be six.

I would be sweating over the party arrangements.

You would be asking “When is everyone coming?”

Naomi would be trying to help blow up balloons.

Roy would be buying last minute

Drinks and more ice.

Yarden, my special child.

You would be six years old.

So tall and good looking.

So grown up and yet love to be held.

Love to be rocked in my arms.

Love to be told I love you the most

In the whole wide world.

Yarden, you are six today.

But not here with us.

We can’t celebrate with you

Except in tears, except with aching

Throats and tender hearts.

We want to lift you on a chair

And sing “Happy Birthday”

One more time – please.

Yarden, last time I held you

You were four and a bit.

So young and yet so grown up.

I have seen you since in dreams

You have acquired maturity,

Grown in spirit, and in soul.

I have too, but I still long for you.

This too is a birthday.

Audrey  - 9 July 2000