She Was Beautiful

Whispers... Don't wake her, Let her rest. Whispers.... Don't tell her, She's not ready. Whispers awakened her From a drug induced Slumber. She listens For a voice So familiar It could have been her own. A voice Cooing at a child, Smiling in it's vibrations Making promises It will keep, Making promises It can never keep. This voice was not there Among the whispers, And yet she yearned To hear this voice. The slumber was thick And yet she swam To the surface Using all she could summon To break the surface To break the slumber. As her eyelids fluttered A strong hand Grasped her hand, Pulling her through To the real world. He sat at her bedside, A face as familiar As her own. And with her eyes She asked the question He was afraid to answer. "She was beautiful." It was the word Was That plunged her back Into the abyss of dreams And unrealized wishes, Leaving her there For a day, Or was it two. When she woke, Those words roused her. When she slept, Those words were her lullaby. No child Rested in her arms, Once nestled in her womb. No child Suckled at her bosom, Now heavy with sustenance. No child To cry out For her mother. Time waits for no one, And days pass, Then weeks and months And soon a year Had come and gone. Soon another child Filled her womb And this child was born, And then another, And then another. Three children Had rested in her arms, Suckled at her bosom And cried out to her, Their mother. And when asked About the fourth She would say, "She was beautiful."