Fingerprints

Like fingerprints on

windows forgotten or

left to remember, your

existence lingers,

clinging to me as

if still a newborn

warm upon my chest.

I dare not wipe away

these sacred stains

within my lifeline,

your presence, your

mark on this world,

your fingerprints

clutching my soul.

Lovely reminders etched

in glass to forever mark

those who came and

those who passed.

Happy 18th, baby girl!

Love, Mom

Removed

(to Faith on her 13th birthday)

So far removed from where I once was,
I often fear you will not find me;
yet, when you do, I’m reminded,
I’m never far removed from you.
I know one day, no one will remember.
And one day, no one will care.
But as long as I’m still breathing, I will carry with me, the flutter of your movements, as if to say, “I’m a fighter, Mom, and so are you.”

I know I have the promise of holding you forever.
And I know my struggle will finally be over
when God places you in my arms,
And me into yours,
never to be separated again.
And only then, my child, when I rest in peace,
will I finally rest in peace.