Mia

This was written in the days following the miscarriage of a baby girl whom I called Mia, meaning "mine" in spanish. She was born into heaven during language school in Costa Rica, June 2007. As she went, I, on my knees in the bathroom floor, struggled to let go of the tissues and remnants of the child she was and the child I dreamed she would be. Ultimately, in the shower I washed her into the Costa Rican rainforst. This is a poetic version of that experience...

Mia

clinging to fragile pieces
of a child yet unformed except in my heart
reluctant to release
the only proof that she ever existed.
the potential of a life, of a dream
sighing a final breath of surrender;
leaving only canyons carved by tears
stained by blood

what plan or purpose can bridge
this yawning chasm, insatiable in it hunger?
but my God and his glory.
she was only mine for a moment
now His in eternity
embraced by her Creator
leaving my empty arms aching,
waiting, longing

again.