A Hope Anticipated


Who am I? I am me
Does she know? Does she see?
She wakes from her eternal dream
No one else to wonder with
She blinks her eyes. She takes a breath
I wonder, me: what’s next?

She hears a sound, but not her own
A disembodied thing: she’s not alone?
She hears the weeping, weeping, weeping
Did she hear it? Is she sleeping?
A deep voice. A word. A melody.
I wonder, me: what’s “baby”?

The weeping voice, it sometimes rings
Sometimes laughs, sometimes sings
“Mama, mama” syllables squish
 What’s a mama? A curse? A wish?
She hears the whisper, “Jellybean”
I can’t count, but that’s mama and me

Voices thunder. Organs roar.
Violence. Shaking. The world at war.
She looks down: looks at the end
A new thing? Her arm finished a hand
Sirens. And voices. A syringe. Terrible pain.
I wonder, mama, does it hurt you the same?

Comforting womb, a warmth, a home
Suddenly quakes, announcing it’s done
The song becomes screaming, the screaming now shouts
The terrible shifting. Now pressing, pushing out
A cold metal, sharp steel is pressed
I wonder, mama: what’s next?