To You, J-L

1.
I cried when I heard you were born -
jinxed perhaps, child, perhaps blessed.
Part of her, part of him.

None of me.

Not conceived in love, I know.
You emerged into a light of adoration.
Hers, all around you. His as well.
Though you may never know him.

Baby girl, I think of you often -
little thing, afraid and new.
I hear you have your father’s eyes.
I hear you have your mother’s beauty.
No one could call you a mistake now.
Now you’re here, now you’re real.

Baby wrapped in loving covers -
too small to know you’ve changed us all.

2.
I saw you yesterday,
for the first time ever.
My heart pounded, my legs were weak.
I had not realised you were real.
Your face was not near,
I only caught a glimpse.
I wanted to see your eyes,
are they really like his?
You are too young to speak,
but you would not anyway –
not to me.
You mother looked at me.
She dismissed me with her eyes.

I count for nothing in the end.

 

© Morney Wilson