A child is a gift
Not a stone
Or a heart weighed down
Not a list of items
To check one by one
As if to prove one’s existence

A child is a gift
Given by our Maker
To those undeserving, and yet
We get to take
Life to hold and nourish
With food that flows
Not merely from a breast
But from a heart:

Imperishable, even as I
Pray the Lord to watch
Your steps, yet untaken
For while you are perfect
With nothing to subtract
Or add
There is nothing that could
Urge me to love you more
Than I do
Being the Mother of you

For you were not
And then you were
And a life
Already increasingly drenched
With sun has become
Brighter with the knowledge
Of this One

A child
My child
My son