We’d ringed the missile base at Greenham
and later on, we pinned floppy roses round your brim
and almost at the drop of the hat onto your head
you took off every stitch and danced for Fionn,
swinging your arms across the tumulus hill
of your little boy belly, and the roses sang,
the blue sky flashed and the summer pulsed
and I hope you still dance in gardens.
- Written by Sally Goldmith (my mum 
This beautiful little poem by your mum made me shed a tear!
It made me think about my own boys and their short time of innocence and pure potential. How tortuous it is to love and lose in the relative realm, even with an occasional taste of of the absolute and infinite ground.