"Empathy in the crib"

At eleven years old, the world shifted fast,

With a baby born, childhood didn’t last.

Leah Jazmine, the first of her kind,

And with her, a love so gentle, so kind.

I stood by her crib, my heart full of care,

Watching her tiny hands, her presence so rare.

I wanted to shield her from harm, from the fears,

To protect her from ants, from insects, from tears.

Leah and her cousins, her siblings, and all,

My love grew for each, big or small.

From the first tiny hands to the growing strong feet,

Each one a blessing, each one a treat.

But as I gave care, I also looked back,

To my mother, whose love I lacked.

In her bitterness, in her hurt and her pain,

She couldn't show love, only made me refrain.

A mother who’d scold, who’d often be cold,

Yet there were moments, tender and bold.

I remember her hugs, the kisses she gave,

The times she’d protect me, the times she’d be brave.

But her love was twisted, hard to define,

And it’s shaped the way that I’ve learned to shine.

For in the pain, in the tears I’ve cried,

I learned what it means to love and to guide.

Leah and her cousins, her siblings, and all,

I care for them then, answering their call.

From the first to the last, my heart wide and free,

I give them the love that I never did see.

I didn’t know then, as I gave all my care,

That in loving them, I’d find myself there.

The love I gave, I needed it too,

But I didn’t know how, I didn’t know who.

A child myself, yet I cared so deep,

To watch over them while they drifted to sleep.

In their laughter, I found my own voice,

In their joy, I made the best choice.

So here I am, with love shining clear,

For nieces and nephews, those I hold dear,

Leah Jazmine, the first to bring love near.

To all the others, I’ll always be there,

With love to give, and heart to share.

Now I know, the love I gave,

Was the love I had needed, to feel brave.

With each little heart, I learned to grow,

In ways I didn’t know, but now I know.

Author's Note

This is a very personal piece.

Reviews

[Neville]

Filled to the point of overflowing with self disclosive observations and concurrent cognitions and associated understandable affect.. You craft a poem I suspect was just crying out to be composed and set free .. Clearly, there is much love here, but pain too and the balance is off kilter, seemingly offset by a sadness & realisation that time is passing and in an all too imperfect, often cruel world, despite every determined effort there is an anxiety that there may not be enough love to go round ..

What an excellent introduction to your ink ma'am. Neville