The Unborn Child Poem by Trevor Toews

The unborn child,
As she waits in darkness for the coming dawn,
Wrapped in solitude's restricting bands,
Is nurtured by a life line, fed and cared for
In ways she doesn't even understand.
And all the while sensing her mother's pulsing heart
She hears the far off murmur of that voice
And somehow knows…
That is the one who gives her life.
Long hours of waiting,
Perhaps in wonder what's beyond this muffled place,
And if her little mind would go this far,
Anxious to see that one, that giver,
Face to face.

I am that unborn child,
I wait in veil of darkness, restricted by this earthly clay,
Bound by my finite mind, and eyes, I cannot see
The One who feeds and nurtures me each day.
I hear that voice, I feel that love wrapped all around me
And I wonder…
Wonder at this One who loves me so
Wonder at the care, and warmth and grace,
Things I do not even understand,
But this I know,
I will someday see Him face to face!

Imagine now, the wonder we will feel,
This unborn child and I,
When we break forth into the light of that new world,
And the One who we have heard, have felt, have loved so long,
Will look us in the eye.