We cannot put it down and walk away
For this is not a novel or a bloom
Plucked as we see the birthing of a day
Bursting in radiance on earth’s living-room
To render its allowances of grace
Before night seals its mien to memory
No, no, the tender honor we embrace
Remains; from now until eternity
As we behold, in awe-struck reverence
The magnitude of its deliverance
We suffer through its valley of travail
And then, as heaven draws its gate ajar
Lending to humble arms, in infant wail
The wonderment of things holy and far
We thus accept, not gifts of trivial worth
To treasure or dispose of as we choose
But, from the hands of God to lowly earth
He sends a charge that we cannot refuse
Of uttermost importance from above
A miracle of hope and life and love
This divine dispensation of His joy
Is staggering and sweet beyond compare
From this day forth the moments we employ
Have been transformed to bear life’s dearest care
And we will never be the same again
As we accept our heaven-tenured lot
Life’s fondest pleasure is love’s deepest pain
To teach a child is to by God be taught
This sacred charge is unlike any other
A newborn cries and we become…
A mother
© Janet Martin
Sometimes the tender brief, yet eternal magnitude of it all steals my breath...there is no quitting, no dismissal from this bitter-sweetest charge.
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!