The gift was you, waiting, growing inside me.
Then when the time was right the hard work came.
Of bringing you into the world, pain, tears, walking,
Pacing waiting for the time to push, bear down
And there you came crying and warm on my stomach
The gift was me cradling and helping find the food
To sustain you after your long journey. Nursing at
My breast, finding comfort and warmth for your
Own small body and you would demand the gift
Of comfort, of love, of sharing and I enjoyed
The gift of slowing down, having to stop, and
Paying attention to you, for this only lasts
But a moment and then you are big, not wanting
My arms, or kisses, or fussing. I give you the gift
Of becoming your own person, one who can
Wound my very soul because love is always
Wrapped in the gift and shadow of God who
Displays the same fostering love and cries when
We fail.