(by Jo Anzalone...4-1-96 written when my
daughter was pregnant
with our first grandchild....Kimberly)
She's coming.
I know it with my mind
and with my heart,,
my soul,
And all my being
Yet
still
It seems a dream.
How can this be,
this happiness beyond belief,
this long-awaited,,
anticipated,
Happiness beyond belief?
Can it be real,
be true,
be almost here?
The fingers of my soul reach out
and softly stroke
the edges
of the thought
that she
is real.
Breath held in
so not to break
a reality seeming so
fragile
still
That a mere sigh,
escaping,
would send it spiraling away,
formless,
into mist
once more.
But her strong spirit smiles,
understanding,
as only the not-yet-born
with pathways open through the stars,
Can know,
inviting the hand
of my fifty-third year
To press
firmly
On the rounded
pink
world
She curls within.
"Let your heart dare,"
she says,
"It will not suffer harm
or
pain.
I not only AM
but
HERE
I am...
Firm,
warm,
and real
And will not scatter
into dust
nor cause your dreams to crack.
I come-
I come
As lily buds unfold,
so will
I
spread my petals,
unfolding
into your life,
filling it
with heaven's
scent,
And
You will know
that promises and hopes
Can be wrapped in fuzzy blankets.
I will not mind,
you know,
your tears
of happiness
falling
on
my
cheeks."
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