My Sarah*
Was it really so very long ago that you grew beyond your
dimpled cheeks? Your smiling face and cupid's brow;
An innocent's disposition. Must you grow beyond a mothers
reach? A smile that melts a mothers heart. God's beloved
gift was you yourself, formed from love, and nurtured by our
family's collective strength. 'No man is an island unto
himself alone.' I see my mother and my father and his father
in your eyes. I hear a history of voices when you sing a
lullaby to me. You started as my child, began within my soul.
And every night I read to you and sang to you the songs that mothers sang before. Our history stretches end to end beginning with Eve. It is a history that lies deep within a
chromosome or three, that you will pass unto another who will
look just like you. The happiness and joy I feel when I hear
your voice at night, is equal to and perhaps beyond the wealth old Midas held. You are the first of my two loves that
time can never steal. A child of God. My daughter. A woman now appears.
Theresa Dould Cummings© 09/18/08
*first of two
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem