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To Unborn Son And Daughter

Love not the son less
But he loved the son
Not to be born and burned
In the turbulence
And pathos and chaos
Of the barren earthly bond.
He loved to sleep
With his unborn son
He loved to talk and play
With the yet not born son
As none could enslave
As none could persecute
As none could chain
His yet to be born son!
She loved her daughter
To be in the womb
And not to advance
From embryo to fetus
As she never longed
Her daughter to fly
Like a butterfly
Loitering the flowery garden!
She talked to her daughter
Whose tickling heart
In the womb stuttered
And yearned for a lullaby
To sleep in dreams!
Her humming of lullaby
Was like a wailing
That made her daughter
Lose the sleep and the balm!
She faced the vultures
With shocking flutter of wings
That hook her daughter
In its sharp nails!
She talked to her
Not born daughter
Not to take birth
As birth is burden
And an unending ordeal!
He and she decided
To perish the love flowering
And to part to embrace
The pain of love broken
For not to father a son!
For not to mother a daughter!

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