05/11/2025
A poem on miscarriage
In honor of mothers who know the pain of loss.
AUTUMN.
One small sprout, one tiny bud
Made from sunshine, from rain, from love.
Ripped from your branch
Before you ever fully bloomed
Claimed from your life
Of hardships, aches and gloom.
Even if you lived now,
In autumn you would leave
Regardless of the strength
Of your stem or of your tree.
But who would you have been
If you had stayed a little longer?
How would you have bloomed
Had your stem been a little stronger?
Would you have danced in the wind?
Would you have longed for the breeze?
Would you have fallen in love
With the view from the trees?
Would you wish for the wind
To have taken you away
Without understanding the outcome
Of what would happen on that day?
Would you beam in the sunlight?
Would you cower from the rain?
Or would you be a refuge for others
Who were down on their way?
And how would you feel
As life had worn you down?
When your once beautiful green
Turned that dark, bitter brown?
Would you reminisce in the time
When life was orange and red?
Would you focus on the beauty,
Not consuming all the dread?
For you, autumn came early
So we never had the chance
For me to teach you how to love,
How to laugh or how to dance.
We didn’t sway in the wind together,
You never got to climb the trees,
So you never got to see the view
You never felt that breeze.
Perhaps I once thought
That maybe I was to blame...
That the only reason was me
And that’s why you had came
Far, far too early
And I had once lost my hope
But autumn soon is coming
And with peace, I know
One day I will see you
In fullness, in love and His glory
In our Savior's kingdom,
Reunited in His story.
Thank you, Lord, for hope, peace and love.
