Waiting

Dear baby, here beneath my heart;

I thought that you might come today;

The timing seemed just right.

But the stars are out

And the moon is high

And sheepishly I wonder why

I try to arrange the plans of God.

For now I know

You will not come until the One

Who holds eternity rustles your soft cocoon

and whispers in tones I will not hear;

"It's time, precious gift.

Now it's time."

Robin Jones Gunn

Mothering by Heart