It had been a long passing away.
A death that crackles the hardest stone,
He sank into the bed of this bay,
A death silent and alone.

He once frolicked through the sleepy field
Waking the insects on the grass.
Bare-foot, to the seashore yield
To dance with a moonlit lass.

He was my child, my dear,
Who never let it pass him by,
Always sat at the edge of that pier,
Watching the Samurai sunset sky.

Now I stand here over his grave,
Now realising he is dead.
And there are fireflies over the wave,
Spelling a poem left unsaid.

They wait for him,
Forever,
Thinking he's just asleep,
Waiting, waiting,
Thinking,
Soon,
He'll rise
From the ocean deep.

K. Jared Hosein

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/loss-the-grave-of-my-child/