I want
to hold a baby, stand before a
languid azure ocean, and rock gently to and fro,
I want to hold
a life, a new one, and wonder over it
over the infinite
possibilities of beginnings
to take in
the unmistakable scent of unspoiled life
What do we have,
really?
In the end,
our sorrows are too numerous to say ‘yes, it was a life’
I want to
hold the ‘before’
before pain,
before anger, before jealousy, before loss, before grief
delicate soft
skin, fingers so small, they
don’t yet
know what it means to touch, to have, to hold
eyes that haven’t
seen what the world can take
feet so
tender they cannot yet comprehend what journeys they will make
And stand
before the ocean, the solemn waves, the water, the light dancing its divine
dance
and igniting
a thousand stars on relentless crests that reach and reach
Will there
always be a tomorrow?
