I cross the street, pass those honking cars;
I see a child running down the road.
He has bright blond hair and big blue eyes,
The child I imagine as my own.
If only I am lucky enough
To be blessed with such a fabulous gift.
Parenthood, a fleeting, lovely dream;
It would be one of my life’s greatest works.
I hold babies in my arms and wish–
Wish they were my own, my offspring, my loves.
I know that my time will come someday
And then I shall have my blessed children.
I dream of parenthood, of grace, love,
And of being quite irreplaceable
Through big, wide, innocent children’s eyes
That will look just like mine only better.
I have to hold on to the sweet hope
That I will be so special to them all,
Who will hold my heart in chubby hands
And giggle as I tickle their bellies.
They will coo my name and hold my hand,
And I’ll tell them that I do understand
When they’re teens and don’t know what to think.
I’ll watch them fly away through soft green eyes,
My vision blurred through my many tears.
There will be happy tears, filled with such joy.
It will beam through them, project on me,
And manifest in my sad, heavy heart.
I will not waste my dreams, loves, and hopes.
This is my hope: I want to be a Mom.