Whispering Prayers In the Dark

Sweet baby, I bought you a soft blanket - vanilla with tender dots, a llama attached, to welcome you into this chilly world. And darling girl, I whispered prayers for you, on nights you spent in the dark womb - with rumbling of voices and pulsing heartbeat. Your mama dear, they told her to abort, but we held your wee hands as we hoped because we believe in life not death. Your mama miscarried your sibling, swept away to the lullaby room in heaven. I see he or she laughing with glee upon God’s lap. A mama’s love so strong but body weak, a mama who carries you in every thought. A father, with pride, and provision, who waits. A mama who’d close her eyes but did not die. She slipped and careened off the road, passing out, and you tumbled, wondering what it was all about. You, baby, wanted to live with all your might, even with a hole in your heart and fright. Looking for the light, to pass into another world. Thus tossed and turned, with emotions worn outside your trusting birthday suit, oh angel dear, you died. Mama, daddy, and grandma cry, affected inside. And your grandma dear, my best friend, so strong. With tears, I say, you take after her, you tried. Two of heaven’s gifts, they wait for family, they play. 12/19/16