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Cradle Under the Half-Moon's Glow

Poetry By: Jan Gabriel
Poetry



This is a poem about an infant and his flighty existence under the light of the half-moon's glow.


Submitted:Apr 30, 2013    Reads: 18    Comments: 2    Likes: 0   


Seven nights have passed under the half moon's glow

Since mother gave you your name,

Christening you with a labored whisper,

Drenched in the sweat of a struggled birth,

With you, sticky with the mucus of her womb.

She cradled you against her breasts

As time seemingly stood still,

Perhaps to marvel for a moment

Before moving on with a heavy heart,

Knowing the tenderness would be short-lived.

Six nights have passed under the half moon's glow

Since the nurses carried you from her -

A hard-won fight, no doubt, how loved you were -

To a steel cradle by the window sill.

Separated, she would turn her head towards you

And send you kisses from under the sheets

When nobody was around to pry

For in the lonely stillness of the room

Her tired heart was free to dream of you;

That from the cradle, you sent her kisses too.

Four nights have passed under the half moon's glow

Since we came to visit one afternoon

Mother, for once, slept soundly at the time

So we tiptoed past and contained our giddy

And quietly spoke of the new cradle we bought

As token of grace for a bright, young soul.

There, two doctors stood grimly by the door

They smiled at us softly, and we smiled in reply

Though I did not realize then, distracted as we were

The sadness that had glazed their eyes.

Two nights have passed under the half moon's glow

Since the phone disturbed the silence of the morning

The sky still unbroken by the light of a sleeping sun

On the other line came the voice of the doctor,

Voice quivering, each word strained in his dire report

At this, around us a dark gloom sprung and choked

And we could no longer return to our beds

Until dawn greeted us, dizzy with grief

The rooster's crows joined by mad weeping

For the cradle you would never dream in.

Another night passes under the half moon's glow

As we gather around a small patch of dirt

The evening's chill heightened by the coldness of sorrow,

Our hushed sobbing accompanied by the rustling of dry leaves.

The stone marker, engraved with your name, offers no comfort

As your mother, veiled in black, lights a small candle

Lips trembling, struggling with an empty prayer

And kneeling, she whispers your name to the soil

Bidding you farewell into the cradle of the earth

Under the light of the half moon's glow.





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