Saturday, September 19, 2009

Still More From the Attic

To a Stillborn Baby

I'm sorry
You didn't get to meet
Your father and mother
Before you left us.
I rejoice
In the certainty
That your heavenly Father
Will never
Allow your death
To come between you and Him.
Against infinite growth,
Or against perfection,
We are all of us babes.
And creation itself,
What is that
But a dream in its infancy?
Seeing only in blurs,
Out of control
     of its own functions,
Dependent upon God
     and man
To nurse it to maturity
     and wholeness.
And without hope,
If death is to stunt its growth.

And yet -
This infant world,
This newborn race,
Is our Father's pride and joy.
Little one, He will
He will
Help you
And us
And all the universe
To keep growing, flourishing,
Until our personhood
     Reaches full bloom,
Untill our relationship with Him
     is consummate.
His anger will rage against evil
     until it is no more.
"He will wipe away the tears
    from every face."
Someday, we'll be with you
     in a better way than this.
Into an already-glorious universe.
Welcome to Life,
Welcome to humanity,
Welcome, child of us all,
Into the arms,
     into the heart,
Of the Father of us all.