Sometimes, as parents, we don't get a chance to easily see the impression the days events make on our children. Maybe it just takes longer for them to deal through it. Perhaps they toss around the images and thoughts in their head, express them in conversations with you, or in the tears you manage to catch yourself sharing with them when you see glimpses of tragedy on TV.

I've always been a strong supporter in journal writing, and the healing that comes forth from such practice. There are times I don't understand why a person would feel reluctant to take pen to page, finding solace within the lines and scratches that spew from the deep well within our soul.

In the past, I've pressed my son in regards to the importance and benefits of writing, in the hopes that he will find it a safe haven, in the same way I do.

The boy arrives at the page, in his own time. This is something I must continue to learn.

Years ago, I gifted my son a journal, a private place he could arrive at and sort out his thoughts. He shares his writings with me when he feels moved to do so. Today was one of those days.

And today, he's sharing a page from his journal with you.

** Edited: It would be great if you shared your thoughts and comments on his poem with him. It would mean a lot to me, and a world to him.