Thursday, May 5, 2005

Only way to have you

The only way to have you is to buy you my baby.....

As I walk over the hill I turn back and look if there are any footprints left behind. I see that there are many imprints in the sand, some young, some old, some quick, some tired, some hopeful and some lost, but they are only mine. Mine, alone. All those footprints were spent searching, waiting for a dream. A dream so distant and yet so near, so impossible and yet so true - a dream to hold you, but once, in my arms dear baby.

I should have known perhaps, while I was made to climb this hill, that this lustrous, scathing, forbidden dream should never have been held in my palm. Yet, I chose to clench it and now I nurse my scorching heart and sift through time, casting a longing eye - veiled in spent tears - hoping, praying that in the mire, I will see a pair of little anklets that will adorn your feet one day. My vision is so hazy, that I even see glimpses of your little feet chasing mine, as we run and frolic together, into the setting sun.

I cannot ask "Why" for that is a forbidden word in the land that I tread. What is sorrow? What is fear? What is it like to be totally disposessed? What is this longing? Who watches over me and still keeps us apart? I can ask many questions, but I can't ask why. No, I can't ask why.

Every day I am sold little trinkets of hope. These trinkets I have to buy to see a reflection of happiness, and to hear the distant songs of gurgle and laughter, of stories to be told, of dreams to be shared, of old eyes looking with pride at a life rightly spent. Every day I beg for pennies just so that before I die, I will hold your little palm in my beggared hands and nudge you into life. And one day I will hold you close and my gentle, caring bosom will swell with pride.

But now you are so far. Oh so far away! As I stretch my palm to beg, my face contorted to entreat, my self stripped of dignity and my mind bereft of emotions, I can see you in the haze. But you are only a muffled cry, that wells up in my chest, for the only way to have you is to buy you my baby.


  1. beautiful, girl. you will make a great mother. :)