"Would you like a boy or girl?" and I reply
all blushing, body blooming like a rose
"It doesn't matter much to me; all I
want is ten fingers and ten fine strong toes-
A healthy baby with a lusty cry."
Such strange conditions, idly placed upon
our love of children born beneath our hearts.
As if we would not love a little one
that's formed awry, confusion in it's parts-
or treasure legs we know will never run.
Can you not stay, my baby? We'll repair
your damaged body, if you'll but live.
I fold myself in faith, hide from despair
Remain awhile--we have so much to give
each other--so much joy to share.
I mourn each problem but do not forget
The spirit held here by your mortal clay
I know that all will be restored--and yet
beg for this sooner-can't it be today?-
and weep for hopes all shattered, dreams unmet.
You're such a welcome burden, so I cry
to our shared Father, He who understands
and cares for me and loves you more than I
know how. Your fragile life rests in His hands.
And I? I'll raise you now...or by and by.