Mama holds me in her arms
She doesn’t mind the newborn mess
She takes my measure in her mind,
With a prayer to God to Bless

People mill all around her
The major and minor doings of birth
She tells them all to mark her words
I will make my mark upon this earth

She imagines me dressed for church
Sending pictures of me in the mail
She notes the quiet baby I am
Saying smart babies don’t need to wail

She says I will map new ways
Or maybe I will find new cures
Service is my family’s mantle
Of that she assures

The nurse wants to take me
But Mama holds me tight
They convince her to let go
That it’s going to be alright

My dad bursts through the door
Comes face to face with his fears
His face belies the truth
And Mama bursts into tears

She says my name is Precious
That’s what I am to them you see
That my very life was precious
Because I never came to be

dVerse Poets Pub – Unexpected Poetics

8 thoughts on “Precious

  1. oy, what makes this most eerie is the perspective of the narator and that they have a consciousness to what is going on…the larger point, that all things have purpose as well…even the hard things & unborn children…hard concept…

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