Phoenix Rising

A Poem by Michelle Gent

About infants left for dead

Phoenix Rising-

It brings tears to my eyes
Whenever I read the headlines
that a baby has been thrown away
Left for dead in a dirty dumpster

I have to do a double take
Not able to comprehend
How someone could do this
To an innocent, defenseless infant

Only a few minutes old
Lying helpless and cold
In the bottom of a filthy dumpster

Listening to the echoes
of her own desperate cries
Her voice denied of wants and needs
Vibrating off the sides of a steel dumpster

Strewn haphazardly like a rag doll
Amongst banana peels
Dirty diapers and kitty litter
Like a damaged toy that is no longer worthy

Left atop trash bags
meant to comfort her, cushion the blow
And be a substitution for human contact

Likewise the chance happenstance encounters
with rats and mice, unwelcomed house guests
that come sniffing around, crawling on top of her
Pensively lurking and wondering if she's consumable

A cold metal box her home, as she knows it
Taking the place of a warm incubator
Her musical mobile buzzing bees and yellow jackets
A prison cell crime, not of her own commitment

As a little girl I'd dream of becoming a mother
playing with my baby dolls for hours on end
Imitating my own mother
One that was nurturing and maternal

Yet circumstance has rendered me infertile
Denying me of my chance at motherhood
barren and incomplete
My heart yearns for this rejected rag doll
Precious girl I know your worth

Little one take my hand and I'll take you home
Giving you a name, validation and a suitable place to live
And a voice that will never be quieted again

Together we make perfect sense
From the ashes we'll soar and rise above
Sweet baby girl, I will name you Phoenix