Heartache

I didn't see your pain at the hour of
your birth.
Your dreams were vague to me.

Were I a better seer
I would have eked it out of crystal
or vessel held water, lingering smoke
or soft candle flame.

In joyful ignorance bliss I marveled
at the sunrise welcoming,
and the tale of your coming told in quick
sentences again and again.

Hurts that followed were small enough to
heal with a kiss.

Until today, where I stand watching at the dawn
of your womanhood marveling at the passage.
Seeing your lover retrieve what was given,
remembering the pain of the slight.
Knowing it only words that pass my lips
falling like sand,
but hoping the tone and cadence
will bring comfort.

-Scott L. Strait