I've discovered that my own words - the ones I pour out - are the ones that help me the most. Sometimes they are a celebration, sometimes a purge, often they are weary or angry or sad. But my words give my children a voice, and that has been the greatest comfort to me.
Usually I would record this for the rhythm, but I couldn't figure out how to upload it. So...here it is:
Swirls & dashes on my page, dark and deep -
Words too slowly take shape - my pen cannot keep up
With the flood of thoughts that need...escape.
Memories of Joyful days, days with promise
When my body held you,
Deep inside my hips cradled you
Skin stretched around your kicks and rolls
Pressing hands to the tight swell,
You pushed back as if you knew me.
Your heart beat beneath mine
Fast, a hummingbird's wings - small, but mighty
A miracle growing inside me.
And when you came, broken...
No tears or cries to announce your coming
I held you again.
Wrapping you in blankets that would not keep you warm
And hands that could not keep you.
God, how I longed for the beat of your heart again.
The pitter patter, fast fast beat that roared in my
ears and now haunts my dreams.
My body held yours until it failed.
My hands held you until they wheeled you away.
My heart holds you now, more memory than real.
Not that ground, not that hard Texas clay
It doesn't hold my baby.
A whisper of a footprint upon this world,
But your mark on me is mighty.