To my Unborn Duaghter

I dreamt of you so many times
Though I can scarcely say and never see
What color will your skin be
For dream permits
That I only gaze transfixed upon an apparition
Lost in depth of absent little eyes
A sea with no horizon

I can hear your voice only when you cry
As you are what is left of me when I die

So helpless and small I hold you for an instant in my arms
To see you standing far from me
Music rings in your atmosphere
As little fingers slide across strings so nimbly

I know love through you alone
Through me you live
Through me you grew
For you are me and I am you

Truth you lie
For unborn you are and yet to grow
Your mother I have yet to know
Though in me I feel you are alive

I have to ask will I ever live to hear your cries
To see you hiding
In a strange woman’s eyes

You cannot see your father’s world
I cannot fathom yours
Is being unborn being dead
Would it be cruel to give you life
In the these dark ages of trouble

Will you live in alienation
As perhaps a half-breed child
Or doomed as a full blood
To die amongst the others
In the ravaged holy land

Now I hear your music only
I know you well as you are me
Though you are still yet to be
I can scarcely say or see