The small rock representing your birth
engraved deep into a necklace
proving your worth
to the world
and to you

you,
the one sitting there
staring out into a moonlit sky
the thousands of twinkling stars
dapple the sky
as the whooshing wind whispers
belonging

You
the proud dark eyed girl
standing tall along an old wooded pier
the spray of the sea splatters your face with its salt
bellowing waves crash underneath your feet
shouting,
You belong

And You
are still here
one of many
on this earth
loved and guided
through this life and to the next
and you,
**belong

three miscarriages: God's
abortions her curse, the third time
not a charm, though with a marriage
of joy and alarm, she feels a flutter

more wings than feet
taking flight amniotic;
she lies still and waits for another,
the expectant mother

she is not
disappointed;
it moves again
to her delight

climbing closer
to the light, wet wings
flapping slowly

this web fingered,
big-brained swimmer-flyer
son-daughter-carrier
of the eternal flame

who will be to blame
if its eyes never see the sun?
what God would will
such a denial?

the one who gifts all
things life, yet has been
but a fickle teaser
with her

she lies very still,
holding the breath of life, hoping
its exhalation will be the current
on which new wings take flight