Esther

 

 

            Why do you stare at me so, little one?

What has your soul seen before it came to me,

            that you should regard me so gravely?

            I wonder where you have come from;

            you watch me

            with such distrust.

 

Within my arms you have not smiled, nor

            glanced about disinterestedly as

            other babies do. You have

looked at me unflinchingly, to my heart’s core and

            my life’s sorrows, with dark eyes

            that have also seen pain.

 

            Oh, my Baby, I love you!

I will meet this test which you do set before me;

            I will be constant in my love

            with care for your body

            and respect for your spirit.

Trust me, little one. I will lure laughter

            to those somber eyes

            until they kindle!

           

             

Cyanne

 

 

             My darling child,

you lie here in the circle of my arms, even-breathing,

            very warm, your soft hair damp

            upon my shoulder.

Alone we sit in the scratchy woollen chair

            gently isolated by the almost dark,

            the kitchen door ajar, glaring

unwashed dishes and hot garbage. The windows

            gasp open, gulping into our solitude

            canned laughter.

 

            My dear child,

you lie here with sleepy eyes in unquestioning

            trust, that your mummy knows all,

            can do all … is all.

Dear God, my baby, would that I did or

            I could, or I were! But you are

            right, after all; for the moment is

absolute, and I with it. For a space of breaths

            I am God. What will we remember

            of this revelation?

 

 

 Cynthia Buell Thomas