For April
I want to take this moment
wrap it in words
as though more words will give
more weight to thank you
if I say instead words
can never express the depth of my gratitude
I do not diminish your pain
thank you
what I say to the driver on the cell phone
who waves me into traffic
to the stranger who trails an arm behind
propping open the grocery store door
I cannot use the same phrase to you
you who have held this life
cradled inside you
felt the first faint flutterings
watched your body change
borne the stretching growing tearing
in places you never imagined
stirrings you could not fathom
before this fierce convulsant love
gazed up at you
with eyes brand new to light
all this you felt, and so much more
and yet
you lay your son to rest
in the cradle
of my arms
I want to take this moment
wrap it in words
as though more words will give
more weight to thank you
if I say instead words
can never express the depth of my gratitude
I do not diminish your pain
thank you
what I say to the driver on the cell phone
who waves me into traffic
to the stranger who trails an arm behind
propping open the grocery store door
I cannot use the same phrase to you
you who have held this life
cradled inside you
felt the first faint flutterings
watched your body change
borne the stretching growing tearing
in places you never imagined
stirrings you could not fathom
before this fierce convulsant love
gazed up at you
with eyes brand new to light
all this you felt, and so much more
and yet
you lay your son to rest
in the cradle
of my arms