My Son

My son,
savior, my beginning and end,
dawn of welcome you have
brought to my frail being, long
awaited pardon and eager joy.

Look,
she slept crying, your sister, the
little bundle born with you, an
unsure dream of life, her share of
my milk resounding in your burps.

She
will die, death croons softly to
her, neglect and hunger smile
gently. Sleep, my girl, to your end,
before HIS arms sing their lullaby.

Should I lie that HE loved you?

My son,
she has gone, you live and shall
love, life will carry you forth in its
glory, wrapped in your mother’s
gratitude, saved from HIS arms.
Saved by you.