Hello, my baby. What dreams you hold in the palm of your tiny
hand. What destinies. As time begins your preparation for life
you silently grow. Already there is love between us. A love,
incomprehensible to those who have not known it and so I will
not speak of it – too often.
So many challenges await you. The terrifying journey from secure
womb to cold, loud Earth will be softened by warm milk from my
breast. And time will continue to prepare you.
We will rejoice at your first smile, your first step, your first
word. A world of firsts for you, my precious one. Explore,
discover and don’t forget to dream. Big dreams! Follow them and
you will grow so tall. Where will they take you, my baby? Will
you ride horses? Will you sing songs? Perhaps the sea will
beckon you, perhaps the sky. Perhaps the heavens! Wherever you
go, little one; always remember your heart. Your dreams will be
nothing without it.
The apple trees are laden with fruit, sweet and ripe. By the
time you arrive, they will be all gone. The orchard is
steadfast, however. Each year it produces – we are never in
want. Like it, your home will be steadfast and strong. You will
feel safe here and secure. There will be storms, as there are in
the orchard but they will pass and the sunshine of your family’s
love will warm you once more. Time will take you by the hand and
continue to prepare you.
I walked by the sea yesterday. Angry waves lashed rugged rocks,
punishing them for blocking their path to dry land. As the salty
spray spritzed my face I heard a menacing challenge. “Come with
us! Dare to be immortal!” But the rocks stood fast and so did I.
In that moment of terrifying exuberance I have never felt more
alive.
You also will see and feel wondrous things. You will grow
towards these experiences as a flower grows towards the sun.
Each one will enrich and teach you. You will also know
heartache. Loss and sorrow which I will strive to ease but
cannot. When such things happen, my darling baby do not cocoon,
thus shutting out the world. Rather, let those who love you cry
with you and share your pain.
Healing will come, gently on wings of gossamer.
These feelings I express will eventually be familiar to you. You
will become a parent yourself and know and cherish and coo.
Goodnight, my sweet one.
Goodbye, my baby. What dreams you held in the palm of your tiny
hand. What destinies. As time began your preparation for life
you silently died. Already there was love between us. Now,
unbearable sorrow. There will be no journey from womb to Earth.
It was the heavens that beckoned you. Fly away, my precious, fly
away.
On gossamer wings.
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Carol
Dorman is a WAHM from Sydney, Australia and publisher of Nurture
the Nurturers ezine – “the ezine for every woman, everywhere” To
subscribe mailto:[email protected] To request her FREE
report titled: EARN $$ WHILE PROTECTING YOUR FAMILY
mailto:[email protected]
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