Trembling Dreams

I remember those moments So far from me now, the past echoes Defeated by the silence of my womb, The deafening silence breaking through Peaceful moments, gentle breathes, Serenity, sincerity, soothing… The longed for caress – softly stilling Cries from the remembered yearnings, The little ones who I never birthed, The beautiful I never touched I remember those moments, Shedding the darkest promptings, The past invading my treasured feelings, Crushing the tranquility, the lessons Frustrating peace – losing faith It was the overwhelming urge to feel Smoothest skin, blended with the scent Baby powder smells, erasing every cloud, Inviting me to breath in the rich dream, The victory that never came about I remember those moments Bloody and heartbroken, beaten By the body who refused to listen To me, the heart who hungered, urgently Hungered for the breathless kiss, The affection, the warmth, the tiniest Sigh from the moment who brought to me That dream, never realized Singing to me of hope that never grew tired Of taunting me with it’s fruitless, futile I remember those moments Infertile, barren, sterile – empty Like the womb who pleaded for me To fill it with the wealth that would never come, The richest abundance from a heart Who would never know how it feels, how it felt To hold the baby that grew inside, the beautiful Reflected by what comes so naturally To every woman, every female – every body… Unlike mine, a body echoing so many Unsuccessful attempts at reproducing – expecting When, expecting wouldn’t grow the hope Who holds onto a hand and demands the greatest Love, a mother’s love – a love I would never know At my core, there are seeds for fruit That I’ll never grow – with love that is silent, As quiet as the womb whose grown cold Now that I’m old, I still hold onto the hope That my love hasn’t gone without mothering Some other, some light, some wonderful That I may never know of yet can only hope Grows wings and breathes out beautiful Into a world that I didn’t think of when I remembered… Infertility is that sinking feeling that lingers On the memory, holding back tears And releasing the dream of a baby into eternity Into forever… finally accepting the loss, The tragedy and all of its cost – just remembering The passing of a feeling, a dream – in a breath It became just a memory. In a breath – just a breath Old age recalls only that aching need as it erases Even the memory of the tears, the past With all its trembling dreams