My friends Chase and Mellisa Reeves are, as I type, bringing their son Aiden into the world. We are all following Chase’ twitter updates as though they were weather forecasts. It’s like being around a radio in the forties or something. So tonight I went on a walk and said a prayer for Aiden, and for Chase and Mellisa, who have had a hard labor. I also wrote Aiden a “welcome to the world” poem. Welcome, Aiden, to your family, to your community, and to God.
The Proper Grieving of a Fallen World
A Poem for Aiden Reeves
Do you remember, Aiden, when we were naming animals,
and the serpent fooled that ignorant couple with a trick,
and then all the birthing came with screaming,
and the fields were filled with weeds?
Perhaps the memory will come back slowly
like it has for the rest of us,
brushing our teeth, counting fifty strokes,
looking through the mirror wanting more.
I don’t want to bother you, I know you’re busy
but is He as good as we want Him to be?
Did you speak to Him or look at Him
as he shoved you through the tubes?
We haven’t been here long, either, but the memories are foggy.
At our worst we wonder if He is real.
Is there anything He wanted you to tell us?
Will you answer while you learn your breathing?
Will something good come from the pain?
What is the proper grieving of a fallen world?
Forgive me, Aiden, for putting this on you.
You can’t remember any more than we.
You go on now, learn your hands and space and time.
Learn your dogs and cats, your soccer stats.
You’ve come into a place, a small community of people
who are learning to name the things we miss.
You can join us if you like.
You’ll be missing something soon.
We don’t have many answers save the one you brought us today,
as your mom and dad stayed up all night
to painfully receive you from the hands of God:
The proper grieving of a fallen world, is joy.
Deeply beautiful. Love the idea of searching for missing. Iʻm sure Aiden will appreciate this from his uncle Don someday but not before he thinks youʻre weird… : )
Jesse, that is, perhaps, my favorite comment of all time for this blog. And sadly true!
Lovely. There’s nothing like birth to remind us of divinity. If only every child received a poem upon entering this world to remind him or her of that.
Love it. I remember looking at my newborn son and wanting to ask him some of those same questions. He is seven now, and struggling through the same spiritual amnesia that seems to plague us all. How cool will that day be, when we step back into Heaven and go, “Oh, yyyyyeah…”
*tears up*
Beautiful.
Beautiful poem. This hits home, having just given birth for the first time 7 months ago. Life is so much heartache, grief, fallen-ness. Nearly every day I’m struck by the insanity of intentionally perpetuating our race. And yet…a birth brings hope for some reason, not dismay.
Maybe part of it is that we get to lose ourselves for a few years, watching a baby learn her dogs and cats, though I’m pretty sure that the hope and light babies bring or induce in us are more than distraction. Maybe they do remind us of buried memories of God.
Anyway, man. What a cool poem. Thanks.
[...] 1:15am: I love that we’ve been able to keep my friends in touch with all this. Here’s a poem from Don, what a sweet, sweet gift: http://donmilleris.com/2009/07/13/a-poem-for-aiden-reeves/ [...]
Wow! Just wow! Aiden is a lucky little fellow!
I’m teaching in Korea right now, and I introduced my students to you and your writing. It’s been fun!
They are now in the thick of writing story after watching clips from your “Let Story Guide You.” Awesome stuff, Don!
It’s hot and humid here, too, much like Houston! I grew up there too, even though now I live in LA. (Well, right now, I live in Korea for a short time anyway!)
My son is two and I remember looking at him as a newborn sleeping and thinking; “Do you remember God?” It is as if heaven fades from him little by little the older he gets. The grief and joy get all mixed up, as they often do! But what a beautiful boy he is nonetheless. Thank you for capturing the weight of this moment for Aiden and his family, and for me too.
Loved the poem. I remember so well that JOY at my daughters birth. It seems like only yesterday. It is now 18 years later and I just left her at college. I now cry as she leaves my arms and I give her into God’s hands. Cherish every moment, time flies so fast.
wow man. that was…i don’t have words.
This is a beautiful and honest celebration of birth. The non-sugar-coated “yay for babies” poems and lyrics are always the most moving. For me, they provoke thoughts about the sanctity of life, the need to embrace it and live it to the FULL.
Very well written, capturing many things we feel but normally can’t seem to verbalize.
Beautiful. It reminds me of lyrics by the band “Sleeping At Last” from their song “Needle and Thread.”
When the world welcomes us in,
We’re closer to Heaven than we’ll ever know…
You were a million years of work,
Said God and His angels, with needle and thread.
They kissed your head and said,
You’re a good kid and you make us proud.
So just give your best and the rest will come,
And we’ll see you soon.
yours are quite possibly the most beautiful words I have ever read about birth and life and humanity and the Divine…
reminds me of what Chesterton says about us always striving to remember the song we once knew…
lovely…
Wow…did NOT expect to cry at Starbucks today. Thanks for the unexpected…again!
awe-inspiring. I am due to give birth the fourth time during the next 4 weeks. this poem gives me something to think about during labour. Thanks, Don.
this is beautiful – in the tears in my eyes kinda way – i suppose birth, as death is bittersweet….i never felt as close to Mary as i did when i held my newborn son….it was overwhelming….
i think the window stays open and we do remember for a little bit – albeit fuzzy…and the world takes that away or simply replaces it – telling us to pay no mind to our hearts memories…thanks for sharing such a gift for Aiden…
these are the lines that stick to me for now:
You go on now, learn your hands and space and time.
Learn your dogs and cats, your soccer stats.
You’ve come into a place, a small community of people
who are learning to name the things we miss.
You can join us if you like.
You’ll be missing something soon.
really, just simple, beautiful and encapsulating….
Thank you for sharing this. It’s truly beautiful in a haunting, soul-searching kind of way.
Oh my.
I’d forgotten.
But of course.
The newborn arrives directly from God’s hands.
You can glimpse the soul through those newborn eyes.
But only for a moment.
Beautiful. Thanks for sharing this with us~ it takes me back to those first tender moments I was gazing into my newborn’s eyes and asking the same questions…such magic and wonder. Ah Babies….suddenly my arms feel very empty~
“Is there anything He wanted you to tell us?
Will you answer while you learn your breathing?”
This bit is so brilliantly beautiful to me for some reason.
So interesting Don-
So many unanswered endings and beginnings this life brings. All we people are is a book unfinished… a mystery novel if you will. Your thoughts provoke more thought… thank you for that.
I pray your answers come!
My last name is Chase. My wife is Melissa. And my little boy Jaden was born recently. The names and poem reminded me of my own experience with an infant and the Infinite. Thank you for that…
“Still and Know”
Asleep. Asleep. As awake
as he’ll ever be. Before
trial and battle and the
raucus quakes and mires
and winds. At peace. At peace.
He sends his emotions into
shadowless dreams dancing
with colors he has yet to see.
See. He does, more than adults
who are counting their losses,
accepting with grief the loss that
fate tosses them. But he is still. Still
asking for what he wants, hoping,
expecting that someone larger and
loving may well understand and
have a plan to care for him
while he sleeps. Rest. He can,
because we love him, because somehow
he knows, he feels that we love him.
And though it’s above him, this
knowing is enough to
open and close his little eyelids
with laughter and levity – a bundle
of bliss – wrapped up in who’s-it
and what-not, who cares?…if it keeps
him warm, admired, and near.
Fatherhood is the greatest thing that has every happened in my life. Nice poem!
[...] to painfully receive you from the hands of God: The proper grieving of a fallen world, is joy. -“The Proper Grieving of a Fallen World”, Donald [...]
[...] I’ve been reading this and considering [...]
Breath taking!