Fragile Moment
by Betty Jo Hilger
Drained, I feel deserted
Where has my day gone?
How did I get here?
When did my dreams of motherhood
transform into portraits of despair?
My eyes burn, dry, salted from years of tears
Desiccated, my heart seems a desert
Parched for love, thirsting for hope,
craving a single drop of rain
to fall on my waterless soul
How long ago did I open
my arms to his hurting spirit?
How many times have I stood
battered under the hail of his pain?
How can I stop and walk away
when he remains within his cage?
How did my plans to rescue him
draw me, instead, into his prison?
How can his small soul
have endured so much pain,
and be so resistant to change?
Every day I dig a little deeper
Every hour I pray a little harder
Every minute I search for a sign
Every moment I hope to see
A drop of moisture, at the bed of his well
A spot of light, breaking through his eyes
An instant of recognition, connection,
a return on my investment,
affection
I will not give up
I cannot give in
He sits alone in dungeons of desolation
just as I found him, not that long ago.
There has to be a pathway,
a stairway, a rope to reach him
I took this task, willingly
I love this child, consciously
I hold his heart in my hands, gratefully
and sometimes, in the black of day,
I feel his hand reach out to mine
It's time.
I can go one, one more day...
