I dreamt of my sweet girl again
She comes so often
This time before sunrise, 35 weeks after I told her goodbye
*
Last night she was settled in my arms
In the dream I always question how
Because even in my sleep I know of her departure
*
I carried her yesterday as I walked a most beautiful labyrinth
Bare feet upon the earth I held her in the cradle of my heart
It ached as it does
*
The ache, it is my mother love
It changes, will change, within each step along a route
Distraction occurs, images capture me, memories rise
*
I dreamt of my sweet girl
She was in my arms
There was an of-courseness to my limbs supporting hers
*
Relating to this new shape of holding has me in a pause
My throat tightens if I attempt to make a category for this world unknown
An orbit in which I can still embrace my child and also must let go
*
It was just two days ago that I, myself was supported by arms
A rare gathering in which, grief as love were the arms, and the heart
Created space to honor and enliven someone, a once new mother, yet unseen
*
Oh the dream of possibility made real when grief as love were the arms
The arms and the heart for a mother who was just at the beginning
Now I shall carry her too
*
A complex formation of paths is sometimes intentional
Perhaps that is not always what is, (though)
I am quite certain sweet girl and I are traveling towards one another with every bit of aim