Hush, the baby is sleeping.
I want her to dream her dream…
the vision stretches far
like a sea of mercy..
mysterious and deep.
Hush, for she will awake
if we don’t tread in silence…
like fairies on tiptoe
through the lilies, unsullied.
Her closed eyes
now open upon the sight
of a great City.
The flowers sing, the birds talk,
and there is pain no more.
Hush, for the baby is sleeping.
She is dreaming a dream.
I will eat no more today.
But, she is dreaming.
I admire the fluidity of your images, each flowing to the next. I had to read this several times and each had a new meaning. The line near the end “I will eat no more today” is a bit jarring. It threw me off the first time and I’m still not sure what I think of it, but somehow it fits.
Thank you for your comments. During this Marathon, I was suffering a miscarriage and ended up in the hospital (almost died). I really did end up eating no more that day, or the day after. We miss our precious little one but have confidently placed this child in the merciful arms of God. Thanks again for reading my poem!
I have a chilling sense that this is a poem of mourning. If it is,it is very gentle and subtle at the denial that the child is really dead.
Thank you for your comments. You are right. I had just begun to miscarriage our sweet baby when I wrote this.. I did not eat in fact. I am just back from the hospital and death’s door. We have hope, however, that we will see our child again in the Eternal City..