Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Empty Womb, Tired Heart

Empty Cradle by ARemington @ deviantART

I hear the refrain
of those that claim to care,
the endless chain
of  Why
and When
and Just be patient, dear.

They don’t understand
the gravity of my condition,
the anticipation that swells each month
until red flicks of disappointment
trigger more despair, more heartache,
my grittled hope cracked and fading,
maternal arms still longing
for more than an empty cradle,
clinging to the desperate dream
that love will finally plant the seed
I’ve waited to watch grow and bloom.

~~~~This poem used most of the words from this week’s wordle at The Sunday Whirl.  I’ve also linked to this week’s Poetic Bloomings prompt asking us to use a line from another poem written for the site as the title of a new poem.  My title came from Suspension (a shadorma) written by De Jackson.  Be sure to check out her poetry by following the link.


Mary said...

I do think it is hard for people to REALLY embrace the painfulness of another's reality in regard to something like this, unfortunately. Your poem captures the agony very well.

Mama Zen said...

Oh, wow. This is really powerful. Well done.

brenda w said...

This is fantastic, Mary. I understand "my grittled hope cracked and fading..." It took us many years to finally conceive my lovely daughter. But then, that's another story.

Great work.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

You have captured this so well. The "grittled hope cracked and fading" is especially affecting.

Jules said...

I can only echo what the others have said. You have spoken with grace, honesty and hope for those who face this agonizing wait.

I'm here: