Becoming A Village

When we first split apart

It felt as if there was a gaping hole

In my heart.

Graftage is an art

Where you join the tissues of plants


We are all flowers in God’s hands


He always has a plan

I remind myself

As we rearrange our family tree.

His love abounds

for my children and I

As my family surrounds

These two little lives –

That I created,

But could not continue to raise,

On my own.

There is no shame

In giving them a new home,

Only forgiveness and Grace.

It is bittersweet –

But I want to sing ONLY praise.

We have become a village

Together our flame burns bright

We share the weight of each burden

And magnify each other’s light.

I still have a daughter,

I still have a son,

Two mom’s are better then one.

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