rainbow baby

men and meteorites

a tomb robbed my inheritance. it
ascended into daylight.
my love stripped down to a hollow. tomorrow
is today's twilight.

yesterday is but a dream deferred.
yesterday, a mother's scorn.

a phantom of my past life rests
in the quiet of his room, where the
dust agitates my eyes, and
healing didn't come soon.

tears kiss my face as my pain struggles
to be at home in your love.
will someday hope, or is this the end of me
stirring your heart to be moved?

yesterday was a dream deferred.
yesterday, a prayer unheard.

when storms collide with sunsets,
fall wet lines of color, faint in the bright of that
space between the world of men and
the world beyond meteorites.

my tongue unhinged, the words within me
rushing t'ward daylight.
my bones now clothed with joy and sorrow,
resurrected from the twilight.

yesterday was a dream deferred,
but today hope is restored.


written in memory of my sweet son isaac who passed away a year ago today, and to my sweet baby who is nestled in that space between men and meteorites.

Tiny Movements

It’s 3 am. i am tired.

There’s this tiny little human inside of me getting comfortable in a new position. I know I should be irritable right now. I probably will be irritable later, but right now, I savor baby’s stretches and twitches as if I were watching baby sleep through the night in my arms.

I experienced about six weeks of Isaac’s movements before he came. I never really felt him at night. Every time I went driving, he would start moving. I used to sing to him in the car as I drove. When I worked part time as a barista and stood on my feet for four hours, I would feel him then too. His movements were so gentle though. Not as vibrant as his baby brother or sister’s movements are.

I was so afraid to feel any excitement when I felt the first flutters around thirteen weeks. Even as baby grew stronger, I withheld my heart. I knew if I let baby, those tiny movements would stir my love at its foundation and I would be bonded from that point on. I knew I would smile the way I smiled when Isaac would move. I knew all the purity and freshness of this pregnancy would be distilled by the life that was cut short. But this baby continues to make his presence known to me.

Mama, I am here. I am strong. I am growing.

The activity never gets redundant for me. I don’t know if it ever will. Every day that I get to feel baby with me, is a new day I have never experienced before with Isaac. As I lie here awake while baby rolls around with great effort, I wrap my arms, my heart, my love around my womb and I smile.

It’s 3 am. I feel alive.