To my nephew – Demilade
Child, Life comes in single pieces and various flavors.
The afternoon you were born,
The hospital tried to know what your original weight was;
They put you on one arm of the scale
And counterbalanced it with a heavy chest
Filled with golds, diamonds and all the gems known to man:
And they saw, like I always knew –
That you were worth more than them all!
At the Nursery, the babies are wrapped in swaddling clothes
While they sleep easy in small cots;
We imagined that the simple clothes did not fit you,
There was a Wrap of Glory and Greatness that was your Afterbirth
Coming in your wake –
And we wrapped it about you instead, and saw how better it suited you.
New born babes stare with wide-eyed guilelessness,
Still glowing from the inside with the remnants of heaven’s beauty;
But days later, that glow dims
As earth’s gloom embraces them tighter.
And you were a little resister,
coming here not just with a glow,
but also with a spark.
So, when earth tried to dim your glow
You’d shudder, let loose a howl,
And spark a bolt of heavenly light in yourself:
That was why in those early days, you cried so much,
As you perfected this act, of never letting your light go out!
To Aanu – my Sister-In-Law
Your feet has set it’s path through the road of Love
You have found a new land,
in the old Country of Marriage
And today, you leave for there
Take care, sister, to let Trust be your compass
And lead you through the treacherous roads
Bring Joy along – as a companion for the flaky weather there
It can get stormy without warning, you know.
Old clothes will not do, make an attire of Love;
Wear it on your body, drape it over your heart.
It is the strongest protector from the cold, long days there.
Your hands, quick and nimble, will find purpose there,
To duty, To desire, To tend!
I know the crosses you have borne,
The lashes disappointment has laid on your back
And every tear you shed on this fallow earth
Was rich in the pain that made God worry
So you should understand why He could not sit still and watch
And how He sprinkled this new land with the Manna of fruitfulness.
Pick a handful of this soil, and say a prayer
Watch the buds of grief transform into what every wife wishes –
A child to care for, then another, then another, and another…
You will be the one, your quiver full, to shout: Enough!