A Hard Call
By Paul McCann
Day after day the same question keeps running through my head.
Is this child we’re expecting alive or is this child dead?
The destiny of an unknown answer is yet to come.
It’s a hard call to take when the hope of this life goes numb.
Like a ship tossed at sea I’m calm in the eye of a storm.
As miscarriage came God reclaimed the life of our unborn.
Grief for life in the womb and tomb, brief the time it was there.
Both of us felt emptiness like life in the womb stripped bare.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem