LETTERS: POEM PROVIDES AN INFANT'S POINT OF VIEW

To the editor:

I'm not a real writer, but I was so inspired by the partial-birth abortion issue that I was inclined to write this poem. I feel it covers a lot of serious issues, and I have written this from the heart.

Will We Ever See the Light?

Hi. My name is Baby, a precious gift of God.

I wonder still how I got this name instead of Kendall, Charles, Jerrod or Rod.

Here's my story of how I never got the chance,

How I'll never learn to talk or walk or even how to dance.

It happened on a rainy day.

I slowly felt my little life slip away.

I felt so ready to be born to start my new life on Earth.

I always thought that's why it's called "birth."

As I lay there in the womb, I though to myself, What a special "birth" day.

Then I felt a gentle tug, and I was on my way.

I came down the long birth canal till I could almost see the light.

Then I felt a sharp pain. I knew something wasn't right.

I felt something sharp puncture my brain.

I could feel my heart beating, first fast, then slow, as I felt my life drain.

Why weren't they trying to save me?

It's getting dark, and I can hardly see.

But as I went, I did see what looked like a doctor. He was holding a knife.

How could someone so educated in saving take my life?

I might have been so cute with curly hair and eyes of brown or blue.

Hey, wait. There's something wrong. They say my dad never knew.

Now it's too late. He'll never know the feeling, the pleasure of being a dad.

He won't know the few moments of life I knew I had.

Birth means beginning, not this horrible end.

My birth wasn't special, and not an announcement did they send.

I know my mom will remember that day. She always will.

She'll ask herself, How could this happen? Why not protection or a simple pill?

She'll remember the feeling of my kicking and fluttering around.

She'll remember my "birth" day, how it was all over without a sound.

She knows how I loved here but feels here decision was right.

But I wonder still: Will we ever see the light?

The light, you see, is the power of forgiveness and strength from God above,

The one who died for us to live, the most wonderful act of love.

CHERYL A. HOUSTON

Jackson