This is a beautiful poem sent to me by a woman who has suffered a miscarriage. I pray that if you have suffered the loss of a child or the loss of a dream, this will help heal your heart and bring comfort to your soul.
Where do all the dreams go, all of the ones unspoken?
The ones that have yet to be fulfilled,
The ones that left me broken.
So many of my dreams are special,
They hold beauty too –
I would watch in breathless wonder
As they went forth and grew.
They came with aching longing,
Others in a rush;
While some took a quiet seat, waiting…hushed.
Some were so small they left me only with a smile;
While others demanded more of me, taking me mile after mile.
Some developed over time, and I watched as they took flight…
But there is one that I was born with; and yet, it isn’t right.
I thought I seen it once, my deepest desire becoming real;
A beautiful unfolding of color, time, and feel.
But when I reached for it…it disappeared.
I drew my hand back slowly… it was just as I had feared.
The dream that meant the most to me-this dream that I could finally see!…
Was gone before I could touch it,
And once again, I…was only me.
The life that was inside me was gone.
I was more alone than ever.
For before I could grasp ahold of it,
The dream inside me severed.
To say that I was breathlessly broken would never say enough.
Trying not to crumble under the weight of the grief –
No one should ever have to be that tough.
I try to rise above it all; to hold my head up high,
‘The show must go on as they say’…as I leave my little one behind.
There are days where even light is dim now – as if every color is gray.
The fog is deep inside of me, and there are times I simply cannot see my way.
Yet even in these hazy clouds of sorrow,
I lift my head… and see a figure standing there.
He sees me.
I am not alone.
And I can see He cares.
He holds His gaze steady upon me;
His eyes are full of Love and Fire.
And suddenly I know something, and I lift myself up higher.
He smiles tenderly at me,
Then looks down into His arms.
He is holding my dream, and He is transfixed by his charms.
It isn’t lost…it is safe, and protected, and right.
Though He holds a cherished part of it,
Because of Who is inside of me –I’ll fight.
Fight to never lose my focus, never shift my gaze;
Even in the mourning, or when doubt comes in waves.
I trust His grasp is sure on mine while He holds tight my hand;
He counts my tears, He gives me strength,
His thoughts of me are more than the sand.
This God I serve is not a man that He should lie.
He is Jehovah Jirah, and for me He did die.
And though my body turn to dust,
I will rise with Him one day.
But for now in faith I trust…
It is in His arms my baby lays.
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