Love letters: Mila

by Bonnie Pockley

(to an unborn child)

Slowly, quietly, you are becoming familiar to me. A name almost close to being spoken out loud, a familiarity creeping in around the edges but not quite ready to make an entrance. I read somewhere about a tribe for whom their children’s birthdays were marked as the day that the mother heard and began to sing their song. Long before birth and conception, the beginning in all its significance was the simple familiarity and knowing that they would come. So some day. Some day, little one. Not today but someday I will meet you. I hear you. I hear your little song and can almost say your name. Not yet though, my darling. Not yet, little one. But I’ll be waiting for you…and I’ll be ready for you when you come.

5a7aa0c258bfdcf6be9076dd93a06737Image via here