The lines etched in your palm are the branches in my tree of life,
I knew you before you were born,
A thought of joy,
A passage of wisdom,
A life cycle completed,
An embryo growing inside of me.
I imagined your smile,
what infinite possibilities of each new day would bring to your life.
I imagined your tiny, soft, uncalloused foot in my hand for the first time.
Never expecting the cord of our connecting life source would wrap around your neck,
Ending the gift that you were to become.
The branches on my tree fell.
A moment never to be had.
A dream never to become.
A touch never fully realized,
A life cycle completed.
An embryo no longer growing inside of me.