Poem written 9-6-24.

If I had named you, You would be Theaphora, Because you bear, A goddess within you We have never met, But each day and night, I raise my voice to my gods, And speak your name My prayers rise like incense, A pure speech-offering, On the altar of my wonder, Hoping for the good All for you, little one, The child I’ve never known, The hands I’ve never held, The laugh I’ve never heard I have seen your picture, And your smile holds, Infinite blessed secrets, I will never hear
Art: Cecilia Beaux, “Ernesta (Child With Nurse), (1894)
