Thursday, September 02, 2010

Blessed Weight

author’s note:

I have no children.  This poem came after a very pregnant store clerk had shown me a humidifier on display.

Perhaps I picked up on her fear.  Perhaps I also picked up on her love for her child.


We bought the humidifier
for the baby because
we worried our dust
would fill the baby's lungs,
could fill the baby 's limbs--

thus, our child might stumble,
might fall down
for all its life.

How could we live
under the weight
of such a mistake?

So, we set our hopes
on the humidifier

but the humidifier
could not damp down
the particles of our fear--
our fear for the baby's future.

The baby inhaled
the fear we exhaled--
our fear burdened the baby's lungs,
our fear burdened the baby's limbs.

Even so, the child could still stand,
could still walk, could still
open the door.

Working under such a weight
our child became strong--
we made our child strong.

Now the adult
that's still our baby
continues to learn,
continues to strengthen,
continues to rise above
--just as we do.

Our child the adult
now wants to fly.

So perhaps there’s a plan
after all.

© 2010, Michael R. Patton
dream steps blog

Labels: , , , , , , , ,


Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home