In the beginning a child is born,
From a small village in the suburbs,
Everyone else is happy for the new creation,
But, the mother looks at the child,
Tears stream down her cheeks,
The midwives and everyone else,
Think that those are tears of joy,
But only, she knows why,
It's a joy and a tragedy for her,
She wishes she could tell everyone,
The great burden in her heart,
But she can't; Who can be trusted?
With such information,
Especially in a village,
Where no secret is a secret,
And every word spoken,
Even in the darkest places,
Spreads like forest fire.
That secret will have to live with her,
In silence, only God knows of it,
Until the day she rests in the bosom,
Where every soul must end,
"I am happy for this child
She forces herself to let the words out,
" Its a great honor for me," She adds,
"We are too, may the Lord bless,
This angel He has blessed you with"
They reply, thinking those words,
Will give her more strength and comfort,
To bring more angels in this world like him.

Some had just come to witness,
The misery of what they thought was love.

When the congregation has gone,
She kneels before the Lord,
Though she is weak, she tries her best,
To make sure she is well focused for the prayer,
She kneels before the Maker,
She thanks Him, though not with much vigor,
As she is used to,
Disappointment and brokennes can bs felt in her voice,
"She wanted a girl child noy a boy"
But God is God, who can be against Him?
Who can stand and say no to God?
Who can question Him over the decisions He makes?
But she rememmbers,
Children are a blessing from God,
And whatever gender they are,
The Psalmist recorded so,
She accepts her blessing.
"Please Almighty God, you have blessed me,
with this wonderful creation,
don't let it be a curse in my life but a blessing,
in addition, help me take care of it,
i am jist but a woman, alone,
in the society taken over by men,
whose hearts are a venom,
to my existence and this baby,
Amen."
She believes God will be there for her,
He will walk with her through the journey of raising,
Her child,
She is hopeful,
She is strong,
That shoet prayer has given her a little comfort,
And assurance.
"Ask and it shall be given you,
For everyone that asketh receiveth"

She is a mother with hope,
She knows there is no way,
The father of the child will come,
She has to walk the journey alone,
She has no place to run to,
She must be strong,
Both in the heart and in the body,
Though an ocean of tired thoughts,
Have already taken hold of her mind,
She must resist, else she will ens up,
Like the others who have travelled,
The same path, previously,
She looks at her little angel,
The child is sleeping,
It doesnt know,
What a tragedy it has brought itself,
By accepting to come to this world,
Where monsters rule,
While angels are the slaves.

"It's just a child"

Who knows it it's fate or a blessing?
Only, He, the Almighty knows,
She just has to accept,
Nothing less, nothing more...

To be continued...