I wrote this poem last year. Maybe someone can help me with a title.



Pain. Sharp pain.

Tears. Fresh tears.

Nothing to stop them.

I sit here, writing.

Writing my pain,

my tears into being.

Visions of children

in my head

and fill my heart.

"Why, God?" I scream.

"Why not me?

My womb is empty."

I cry. I pray.

I am like

Hannah, Sarah, and Rachel of old.

Waiting. Anticipating.

All for naught.

No change. No baby.

Hopes dashed.

Sobs aroused.

Knelt in prayer.

God is faithful.

He hears me.

He wraps me in his arms.

"I will never

leave nor

forsake you."