‘The Three B’s’ (new poem)

Fair warning: This post has subject matter that might make some of my more conservative readers feel uncomfortable. At least that’s what my rather conservative friend told me.

The world has definitely not ended on December 21, 2012, and as such, I feel I’m allowed to have dreams again. One of my greatest and longest-standing dreams is to one day have children. I do admit that I think about children much more than a regular 20-year-old non-parent should, but I’m not alone. My roommate Sarah was convinced to cease her vegetarianism(another story for another post) by bribery. The bribe? Eventually having children with her boyfriend(you know, after they get married).

Anyways, I’ve been working on this two-part poem for a while now. The second half is about a toddler boy I had a dream about this summer, a possible future child of mine. The first half is based on a vision I had while thinking about the dream a few months later. It definitely reminds me of Anais Nin‘s “Birth” essay. I regularly and sincerely pray that it’s subject matter will never happen to me or anyone I know.

Now that’s I’ve sufficiently scared you, here is the poem. Ponder.

The Three B’s
By Maggie McGinity

I. Oh, baby blue
Baby new
Baby gone
I knew you

Oh, Lord.
I love you.
No past tense.
I love you.

God, I would give anything
To take your place
To let you live
My life exchanged

But it would be too selfish
To leave the others behind
They need me too
We needed you
Together, somehow,
We’ll survive

We’ll live twice in every moment
For each of your minutes lost.
We know our time misspent
Demands too great a cost

We’ll hope more with each sunrise,
Pray more with each sunset.
We’ll look into each other’s eyes,
But we’ll never forget
You.

Baby blue
Baby new
Baby lost
I love you.

II. Dear darling
Beautiful
Blessed
Blue

Brilliant baubles,
Your eyeballs.
Huge and happy
In your head so small

Serene cerulean
Sumptuous sea
Your sight of my sight
You capture me

Corn-colored curls
Frame your face
Soft little twirls
So full of grace

Dear, they will darken
Brun will they be
Why you may hearken:
It happened to me

Your eyes may bloom
Or stay the same
I’ll not guess too soon
Genetics’ game

Change you will, surely
Grow/go too soon
Become uncertain, unruly,
A lover or loon

But bouncy and bubbly
Gold hair and blue eyes,
Balanced on my hip,
You are perfect tonight.”

Quote:

“I love these little people; and it is not a slight thing when they, who are so fresh from God, love us.”
-Charles Dickens

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