Poetry

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A tiny baby, a child to call their own,
that it could never happen, neither could have known.
But even though, again and again, they tried,
she listened, her heart broke ... he cried.

A tiny baby, a child she didn't love,
and even though she didn't, he had a father up above.
Each step she took, to the place to end his life,
when all was said and done, she was filled with grief and strife.

Her body wouldn't allow it, though her mind said she could,
she couldn't carry her child, her tears held back, she stood.
She watched each mother, coming in and out,
though their children were no longer with them, of this she did not doubt.

Crystal tears began to slowly flow; she now felt the pain,
her hand strayed to her stomach, where her baby had once lain.
She saw another woman crying, one who'd never gone inside,
and slowly, her feet walked over and together, they cried.

One was a woman who could never have children,
the other, a woman, a mother she had been.
One body couldn't hold the baby, and one had before,
but together, they cry for their loss before the Lord.

She tells the other woman, of what she has done,
and each of their tears, slowly glisten in the sun.
She wishes she had never done it, the other does, too,
and together, they raise their eyes up to the deep sky so blue.

One prays for a child, and one for forgiveness,
and as the Lord looks down on them, their pain he does not miss.
Two women, two worlds, two share in the grief,
forgiveness given, a wish granted, a sign - a tiny leaf.

Two women, two worlds, and then two years later,
one child, he smiles, he laughs, and she blesses his creator.
A man who loved her, a child she called her own,
the first child, bright flowers, was laid beneath a stone.

A brand new baby boy, a child of their own,
they love him more than anything; he'll never be alone.
Shining eyes, blond hair, a miracle child in the world,
Soft touch, a beautiful smile, a child of the Lord.

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