A babe yowled in vast open air
As the flinty moon gazed;
Forsakened by his mother dear,
No doubt was in a daze:
"Where went my ma with all her love
And kisses due to me?
She unstrapped me from her rear curve,
Plucked for the world to see.
Why sped off the womb of my ride
To earth, without a map?
Stranded in a new world, I cried,
Deprived of mother's laps!
Oh, cold the pavement I lie on,
Soaked in my wordless wail;
None to rescue a newly born
From ache, and filth, and gale!"
While the child wept, the High Lord heard
And sent one of His own,
Who picked the infant safe and reared
Until he was full-grown.
God never forsakes children. Isaiah 49: 15
This poem won 2nd place for the May 2014 poetry contest