My Myrrhy Future. (apparently it’s the festival of babies in Belfast…so…an old one)

I stood, waiting, anticipating….anxious.
The smell of the place, of both life and death.
Emergency surgery takes you into an unknown.
Time passes, like ages and like an instance.
The door opens and creaking wheels approach.

She casually passes my hoped for stripling, and
A sneeze, then another is the first sign of life.
Quite natural as air is bartered for water.
I look into those unaware, naive, cold blue eyes.
He is so, meagre, small; beautifully fragile.

I am overwhelmed. Here is my myrrhy future.
Promises, prayers, oaths are artlessly offered.
He holds my fore-finger, and we shake on it.
My heart aches; he will know a different way,
an unconditional love, always, no matter.

Standard

One thought on “My Myrrhy Future. (apparently it’s the festival of babies in Belfast…so…an old one)

Leave a comment