Trembling Dreams
I remember those moments
So far from me now, the past echoes
Defeated by the silence of my womb,
The deafening silence breaking through
Peaceful moments, gentle breathes,
Serenity, sincerity, soothing…
The longed for caress – softly stilling
Cries from the remembered yearnings,
The little ones who I never birthed,
The beautiful I never touched
I remember those moments,
Shedding the darkest promptings,
The past invading my treasured feelings,
Crushing the tranquility, the lessons
Frustrating peace – losing faith
It was the overwhelming urge to feel
Smoothest skin, blended with the scent
Baby powder smells, erasing every cloud,
Inviting me to breath in the rich dream,
The victory that never came about
I remember those moments
Bloody and heartbroken, beaten
By the body who refused to listen
To me, the heart who hungered, urgently
Hungered for the breathless kiss,
The affection, the warmth, the tiniest
Sigh from the moment who brought to me
That dream, never realized
Singing to me of hope that never grew tired
Of taunting me with it’s fruitless, futile
I remember those moments
Infertile, barren, sterile – empty
Like the womb who pleaded for me
To fill it with the wealth that would never come,
The richest abundance from a heart
Who would never know how it feels, how it felt
To hold the baby that grew inside, the beautiful
Reflected by what comes so naturally
To every woman, every female – every body…
Unlike mine, a body echoing so many
Unsuccessful attempts at reproducing – expecting
When, expecting wouldn’t grow the hope
Who holds onto a hand and demands the greatest
Love, a mother’s love – a love I would never know
At my core, there are seeds for fruit
That I’ll never grow – with love that is silent,
As quiet as the womb whose grown cold
Now that I’m old, I still hold onto the hope
That my love hasn’t gone without mothering
Some other, some light, some wonderful
That I may never know of yet can only hope
Grows wings and breathes out beautiful
Into a world that I didn’t think of when I remembered…
Infertility is that sinking feeling that lingers
On the memory, holding back tears
And releasing the dream of a baby into eternity
Into forever… finally accepting the loss,
The tragedy and all of its cost – just remembering
The passing of a feeling, a dream – in a breath
It became just a memory. In a breath – just a breath
Old age recalls only that aching need as it erases
Even the memory of the tears, the past
With all its trembling dreams
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