Rest in peace baby.
As a bright bulb in the tender earth,
ready to surface, to see the bright sun,
but waiting to be bigger,
to burst into beauty, a lily
waiting, vulnerable to be ready.
Cradled in the warm ground
potential in it's closed petals,
pulled from the earth, premature...
Lord have mercy.
As a sealed egg
layed, in the hay to rest
perfect in speckles and in shape
incomplete but still complete
in this still un-cracked form
mesmerising with it's possibility
crushed under farmers foot,
swept along with an accident, lost like a rock.
Christ have mercy.
As a pebble,
lodged in throats, salt grit
A thump in chests,
that is less deserving
An ache in hands,
reaching out for something,
anything, lost for
a faith to hold onto...oh
Lord have mercy on her.
On a child, with a mind, with time
ready to become more and yet,
not a women, but a baby,
on the cusp of blooming in the day light,
ready to reach...
for loves, and fears and tear drenched dreams,
to feel the sun through the leaves
and climb old, forgotten trees...