A Fresh, New Person

I wrote this poem a year ago as we waited for my grandson to be born.  Looking back, I realize it is a little hopeful….
A little girl waits
for a fresh, new beginning.
Waves of pain flow over her
washing her clean
She longs to separate his body from hers
only to keep him forever close
She longs to hold him in her arms
and gaze at his fresh, new face
She readies herself and
lays out his clean, white clothes
Clothes befitting of a fresh, new person
“He will match his outfit”, she says
As he emerges from her body
he will wipe the slate clean
He will be her bridge over rivers of hurt
her antidote to a poisoned heart
He will quell her anger
and quiet her soul
She will emerge from the waters
with her youth dripping from her
No longer a little girl, but a woman
A fresh, new woman

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3 thoughts on “A Fresh, New Person

  1. I especially like the last line about emerging from the water with her youth dripping from her. It speaks so strongly that transition from 'no-longer-child' into 'fully adult'

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