This Poem was Submitted By: Debbie Spicer On Date: 2001-07-13 23:19:16 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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BRANCH OF MY SPIRIT

Remembrance of you serves me in affection and suffering, as I attempt to find reconciliation within my inner self. No recollection was consequent to the surface of my memory, but here and now you have been fully envisioned. You were so perfect, yet so serene. Your journey to this cradle of humanity was never meant to be.  How agonizing it was upon your arrival.  I wept and grieved in anguish…  grasping you in my arms, you so perfect. Please baby waken…."your body is limp",  my spirit strains to comprehend you this way.  I guarded you secretive as I said goodbye… putting you to my cheek and lovingly kissed you. Then sadly turned my face as I mourned your loss. experiencing only a component of the agony at that time.   As I began a journey never anticipated.  regret consumed the entirety of my presence.  Ultimately, what was created in aversion, became contradiction to my heart and soul. What I had yearned to destroy, now developed into a treasure of my life. I must be courageous, and reach out beyond, I must, as no discretion is given to me. When did this loathing transform to such love? In a moment of time, just before my own eyes. The dismay had cycled entirely around, my heart and reason came simultaneously as one. I embraced you. I attempted to waken you.  You lay in my arms, as though you were dreaming.  But your spirit departed before you were here, and I can’t have you, but neither can he. As I shrouded you to set you free, I couldn’t help but gaze at your taintless body and wonder "WHY?" I perceive only slight of this purpose, not every life is meant to have a journey in this domain that we know.  You went on in a journey I can not imagine.  But my healing is something different… I perceive it will take a lifetime. Most of my existence, your remembrance was hid, now I must confront the austerity of my loss. 

Copyright © July 2001 Debbie Spicer

Additional Notes:
This was the result of a very tragic and painful event when I was 18. It began as torture and ended with the premature birth (7 month term) of a baby, created in hate, yet ending with love. Writing this is part of my healing years later.


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