For Maryli
It occurs to me, while you tumble unseen
In your mother's belly, that I am deathly afraid for you.
Not because I'm unsure of your brilliance -
Coming from her, how could that be anything but certain.
No, afraid because this world, my love, is not yet ready for you.
You, with endless possibilities, and a heart, I know,
Forged in kindness, are being thrust into a world
Built to stamp it out. And you, with hope and love and an
Unspoiled faith in humanity,
Must encounter it.
I'll be there, of course, and your mother, but I
Cannot prevent tears that I know you'll shed;
Disappointments you'll drag behind you
Like the laden, rolling book bags so many
Children bring with them now. And in the quiet of twilight,
Dressing for work while you lie nestled within your
Sleeping mother, I silently lament that reality.
Because
Your heart will ache for justice and for people
To see more than curly, coarse, black hair
And dark, brown skin and almond-shaped eyes. To expect gifts
Beyond calculus and chemistry - though, your father
And grandmother were decent at both - and to
Value the words of your experience and to trust in your voice.
You may weep with compassion as you gain awareness
Of what you have and others don't, knowing tonight some
Go to sleep hungry. And you may be angered at
Lives lost to hate and a system that does not - can not -
Love.
But
Know this
One person can't move mountains
But they can rally the movers
One person can't bring down a system
But they can shake the ground to make it bow to them
One person can't heal the wounds of our world
But they can always soothe the hurt in their neighbor
You are stardust. You are a miracle.
And when the world's made you feel enough
Know we are here for you.
Our love. Our heart. Our great joy.
Maryli. October 2017. Credit: AJ joven