Saturday, June 09, 2007

Assorted Poems

I Hear You Have An Angel

I hear you have an angel
a baby boy like mine
and though it's really scary
you will celebrate in time
the things that you believe now
will change and will become
the extra special parts that make
your extra special son.
I just started this same journey
Though I'm ahead of you on the path
there are a few things I've learned,
and I DO know you will laugh.
You see, an extra chromosome
is not what I once thought
it seems to be the one on which
purity is brought.
And though people will say they're sorry
(and some wont know what to say)
I will be here for you
when you're ready,
and I can't wait!
There is a special bond you see,
between families like ours,
a joy found in the living
and a peace that fills our hearts.
Your son is more than just a child,
he's a tiny teacher, too.
And scary as it is right now,
you will soon feel as I do.

My Child My Love My Life
I wish the world could see you as I see you
Wish they knew the joys you've brought to me
So many people quick to judge us
and see you as someone who shouldnt be

They tell me that your life is not worth living
if they were I, they would have never let you live
They cannot know the thing it is that we know
They will never know how much you have to give

They talk a lot of sacrifice and burden
They imagine that your being is our loss
How can they know you saved me when you found me
when I never even knew that I was lost.

True enough, my world has changed forever
nothing in it is as it was so long ago
Your entry in our world has changed so many things
but none so much as they have changed my soul.

Why do we live our lives at all then
if there is some race that we must finish first
Why do we deny ourselves it all then
we drown so that we may quench our thirst

You taught me to stop and smell the tulips
they are different than the roses, this is true
their scent is in my every pore now
I never would have known them without you

To all the many people who would not choose you
who think your life is somehow tragedy
I say you have outlived them and outloved them
I am grateful God chose you just for me

You love your life and everyone thats in it
you shine your light without knowing that you do
Illuminate the darkness with your sparkle
my child, my love, my life, thank God for you.

Danny's Poem
through the long and winding road
over seasons and through the years
you alone, the distance walked
no other sound but your own tears
silent footsteps in the dark
searching for the path to tread
carrying a load no one could match
never begging that the weight be shed
a mother's heart, lion strong
a mothers fears to keep
anger gnawing at your insides
best left buried way down deep
some have walked beside you
their footsteps fell off of the path
and though they sought to comfort you
their devotion could not last
some have walked before you
and though they try to shed some light
no one can ever fully
prepare you for this fight
many will walk behind you
whispering words you cannot heed
that your son is better off
where God can tend his needs
cause love is never selfish
it wants naught but to give
and a mother is not a mother
were she not to will her boy to live.
I cannot walk in front of you
I will not walk behind
but I will walk beside you
through this dark and lonely time
I wont offer words to cheer you
or sympathies or lies
I will simply be here for you
and hope you realise
that in your darkest moments
when your feet cant find the way
your friends here will carry you
and help you get through today.

Ciarra Nichole
She kisses the angels
she touches the skies
God gave her stars
to wear in her eyes.
How could "imperfect"
be used to describe
this child I've been given,
the light of our lives?
She smiles with a sweetness
reserved for so few.
How dare mankind judge her
on what she CAN'T do?
She reaches out a tiny hand
And touches total strangers
as very few can.
Some have made comments
that were truly unkind,
But once they know her,
they leave that behind.
For this is, for sure,
an angel, on earth
God wanted a messenger,
and so He sent her.
If you are given
an angel to hold
You'll see there's no worth
in diamonds or gold.
Be glad you are worthy
of such honor as this,
and thank the Lord,
that you were picked

dandy lions

I dropped Ciarra off at summer school this morning, she loves it. As we were going in the door, we passed 2 beautiful huge planters full of vibrant color. Ciarra seemed to be reminded of something, she turned to me and said "I have a surprise for you!"
We got in, and she tore off running, grabbed one of the aides and excitedly said FLOWERS..MOM...PICKED...SURPRISE. The aide wasn't sure what she meant at first, but then she figured it out. They walked into another classroom and Ciarra grabbed something off the shelf. She came running to me, hands behind her back, saying "No peeking!" I closed my eyes and crouched down, and she proudly placed a handful of brown, dead dandelions in my waiting hand. The smile on her face melted me, she was so excited. She said "you love them?" and what could I say? Of COURSE I love them. I loved them more than you might think one could love dead day old weeds. I love them because they are a gift from her, a child who finds the beauty in everything around her. I love them because, like her, what's on the outside doesn't even cross my mind anymore. To the unguided eye, what I held was a handful of weeds. As Ciarra's mom, I recognize that they are special weeds. They were picked with love. They were lovingly laid aside to be given as a gift to the mom she worships, they were forgotten temporarily, and they were remembered gleefully and given over as though they were the finest gift ever bestowed. They may be. Because, under the brown, they are still beautiful. Beneath the wilt, there is a tender heart bursting with strength and color, brightness and glory. Just like the daughter who saved them for me, they are a gift I might have passed by had I not been taught to slow down and see the beauty in the world.

Slow Down
I wanted to take a minute to share a few thoughts with you, because they are heavy on my mind right now, and because if I don’t share them they will come out in ways I don’t mean them to. Before I say anything, though, let me thank you for the multitude of hugs and the love you share with my child every day. When I see you drop to your knees to hug her in the hall, my heart goes soft. I know that it takes very special people to give their lives to this kind of work. It surely isnt easy to work with a child everyday who can be stubborn beyond words or whose speech and mind are hard to decipher.
I am writing to say that sometimes reading the words you write about her, I want to grab her up and run away with her, or somehow squish her up and keep her little so she doesn’t have to be a “big girl” anymore. I want to scream at the world, “do you see her?” do you really, really see her? Do you know what tenacity she has to even be here? Do you know more than 70% of babies with Down syndrome die before they ever see the light of the world? It takes immense fortitude for them to ever get here. Did you know that as a newborn, a heart defect nearly took her from us, and that we were even told it would be “ok” if we “let her go”? The world is tough on these kids, right from the start.
Ciarra has been a lesson in so many things for us. We have learned that slowing down and taking the time to savor every step along the way is important. Rushing through life, we missed a lot. Then came her. We have learned so many things. Like her, we have learned to slow down and really take in everything in life that God has chosen to share with us. Leaves, puddles, “paterpillars”, footprints…everything has a story and we arent so busy rushing around now that we cannot stop to find it out. Probably in your world, this is called “dawdling” or “being pokey”. To Ciarra it is all about the walk, not the destination. And we, the grownups who were graced with her presence in out home and our hearts, are learning to slow down and walk it with her. Maybe you can remember this as you rush through the days with her. Rather than seeing only the end of the tunnel, if you take your time, you might see all of the beautiful things that make getting to the end of the tunnel less important.

Another poem:

Slow Down Mommy

crazy days,
busy, full,
wall to wall days.
basketball nights
tourneys, coaches
too late nights.
Big boy, little girl
fighting in the car
muddy boots on my seat
scolding, cajoling,
and here we are.
crazy, crazy days.
Hurry up,
bus is coming
rush and run
toast is burning
drink your juice,
grab your boots
crazy crazy days.
Slip sliding running
bus is coming
we made it
there they go
time to rush to work
I see footprints in the snow.
Tiny footprints, bigger ones
side by side
my heart swells
rushing rushing
through my life
then stopping,
the tears well
Slow down Mommy,
wait for me
my steps are tiny yet
pretty soon
they'll be gone away
there'll be no bus to catch.

No comments: