I Can Say the Words My Daughter
Do what is best for your baby, they whispered. Unloved & unlovely, we gave birth to our babies, Did you know that you’ve always been loved? The words in your letter blur as I read them
On Saturday, we will meet. Gently, carefully, I fold you, newly precious one, © Corrine Dowling
It is not you who is best for your baby,
were the plain as day words.
Shut the door, you’ll forget, they said softly,
Listen well, this is best kept hidden from view.
Words ever spoken, always heard.
and then we wept goodbye to our babies,
knowing already that the door had swung open,
saw the ache walking through with
an I’m here to stay grin,
words never spoken, always heard.
A small face in a photograph seen only by me.
(Please, God ,if you’ll just keep her happy & safe.)
over & over.
My hand lingers on your unfamiliar name.
I hold it tightly.This will not be taken away.
On Saturday, what will happen?
On a perfect Saturday in a suddenly perfect world,
I see a young woman flying down the hill,
so lovely, I catch my breath.
You are running to me for the first time,
and my soul leaps to meet yours in startled,
joyful recognition.
into my arms,
arms empty for twenty-nine years,
and my eyes close in gratitude.
We move towards a future that shimmers with promise.
Did you know that you’ve always been loved?
As I now am well loved by you.