Waiting

Dear baby, here beneath my heart,
I thought that you might come today;
The timing just seemed right.
But the stars are out
And the moon is high
And sheepishly I wonder why
I try to arrange the plans of God.
For now I know
You will not come until the One
Who holds eternity rustles your soft cocoon
and whispers in tones that I will not hear,
"It's time, precious gift.
Now it's time."

by: Robin Jones Gunn