Metric Monday - Just one poem

I haven't written as much poetry as I would have liked to in the last few years, so here are a few from a while ago. I hope you all have a wonderful Monday!

Lack

I have no love songs left to write

The barren plain

The wind-scraped earth

The aftershocks,

The broken ground

And none to hear the hollow cry

I will ask once more the sky

To spurn the pain, remove the thorn,

But with each cry the seeping sand

I have no love songs left to write.

Adoption

I watched with hope and sadness when your hands formed the tiny bowl 

and stamped her name

She was still just the smoke that rose from the candles I lit in cathedrals. 

The kiln baked the name in the curved clay, 

I painted it and guarded it wrapped in paper. 

Waiting

I carried it across the ocean, 

My heart shivered as I thought of giving it to you

as the smoke still rose to God.  

I put it in your hands. 

There was no child.

Many times, I would wander to the cupboard to find a plate for breakfast,

A bowl for soup

I thought of that little dish far away

Waiting. 

An offering of reckless hope and freefall.

Then there was the slowly opening door.  

She was there.  

Not a prayer candle, not a dish, not the smoke.

Her.

A child lucky to have a mother with such a hopeful heart.  

Bless you both for believing in the yes that comes at the side of why.