"The Drowned Children," Louise Glück

"This is what I want to learn: 

That there can be sharp precision in numbness. That sometimes we need that thick blanket of snow to cover every last thing up before we can even attempt to make sense of it all

 and look for that healing, and yes—hopefully swift, solution. 

Also: That darkness is an okay place to dwell,"

Sarah Gerkensmeyer

You see, they have no judgment.

So it is natural that they should drown,

first the ice taking them in

and then, all winter, their wool scarves

floating behind them as they sink

until at last they are quiet.

And the pond lifts them in its manifold dark arms.

But death must come to them differently,

so close to the beginning.

As though they had always been

blind and weightless. Therefore

the rest is dreamed, the lamp,

the good white cloth that covered the table,

their bodies.

And yet they hear the names they used

like lures slipping over the pond:

What are you waiting for

come home, come home, lost

in the waters, blue and permanent.

Louise Glück

"Conscience must be informed and moral judgment enlightened. A well-formed conscience is upright and truthful. It formulates its judgments according to reason, in conformity with the true good willed by the wisdom of the Creator...," Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1783.