A poem I wrote last night for my short-lived child who died in 2016


My name's actually not Steve
Jun 12, 2015
I used to write a lot of poetry in high school and college, even winning 3rd place in a contest at my community college in '96. I've recently become acquainted with a kindred spirit online, someone who writes beautiful verse. He's inspired me to explore my dormant creativity.

Last night my wife and I watched Blade Runner again, my favorite movie. Mayu has only seen it a few times, but does not have it memorized as I do. At the end of the movie, Mayu asked me why Batty saves Deckard. I told him that despite his killing, when faced with his own death he realized how precious life truly is, and he loved life more than anything else. Even his enemy's life.

The scene in which Batty drove the nail through his hand to keep his hand from shriveling into uselessness, I suppose the movie makes a point that even a murderer can be redeemed if he chooses the path of life and grace.

In 2016, my wife was pregnant with what would have become our second daughter. But after four weeks, the child had been growing weak, and went silent. We were never able to conceive again. I'm now 47 and she is 46, and we've passed our time for childbearing.

If this baby had been born a girl, I wanted to name her Violet. I wrote this in memory of the short four weeks she brought joy to my heart. I'll see her again someday in eternity, and she can tell me the person she could have become. I miss her, yet I never knew her. Life is immeasurably precious and not to be disregarded so casually as it is. Embrace life.

Here's what I wrote of a circle of life drawn too quickly.

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