Mourning Hours

I am learning what it means to be a woman,
To be a mother,
A womb-an
A token of fertility
A life-giving vessel

With this responsibility comes
Death and disease
Miscarriage and cancer
Darkness and despair
Tears which taper, cease

With the morning, bearing
Glad tidings of great joy
A baby, born this day
A child, to carry on my
Name

I ache for such a day, yet
Will cherish
The blackening hours
Which make the colours of the dawn
So very beautiful