tiny eyes, the prettiest have seen
in those little eyes my future lied
before then I was a starless night
until it brought the sparkle of
fireworks on new year's eve in my skies.

a toothless mouth, with a perfect smile
it's lips held words I never heard
if only a voice grew on it's tongue quicker
I would know how daddy tastes like

when I held it, I felt like a god
for I too had made an angel of my own
it's smile as perfect as heaven
my whole life revolved around it

those few days felt like forevers,
in my hands, hours resembled seconds
some nights I stayed praying
with all the wrongs, it made my life
worth living

sometimes a sun sets before rising,
when the night sky was full of stars
but it must rain in the morning
trust me it's darkest at dawn

everytime it cried, I saw scissors cut
through, I felt each of the 32 stitches,
it's cries performed a painful surgery on me, more than ever I really missed Her,

somehow I kept thinking of that day
3rd October, bright cloudless skies
the temperature was always soaring
she laid down on the bed putting on nothing but hope

those past few days;
I noticed how she begun to look tired
one hand held her back as she walked
the other leaned to anything in her way
it has been a stressful nine long months.

she, a midwife by profession
she boasted of 340 successful deliveries to her name,
to most women in the labor ward, she resembled hope, no woman died while giving birth at her watch,

in a small community like this
where everyone knew everyone,
half of the teens passed through her very hand, countless of which called her mother,

for us it had been fifteen years of marriage without a single child to show for our many years of marriage, she often spend nights awake, mourning a blessing that had deluded her hands or perhaps her womb.

I too was dying inside, as a teacher, I spent most of my days bonding with other people's children, for moments they felt like mine, but once the bell rang, in split second only chairs and tables remained, a good reminder of how empty my life was.

sometimes I pulled the window curtains aside and watched their parents pick them up, I wondered how it must feel to be welcomed home, to be called daddy, to have someone to read bedtime stories to or just to have someone carry your name into the next generation.

what haven't we tried, which church didn't we visit, my wife and I drunk countless anointing water perhaps enough to fill a river seeking for a break through but it was as if God had forsaken us, my lips eventually forgot how to pray or hope,
© glayvin