This poem addresses abortion. It is from the omniscient perspective of an aborted fetus. It is the fetus speaking the whole time, speaking to his or her mother and, in a way, haunting her. The first section is not addressing an actual world which the fetus saw, because its eyes were never opened. It is a metaphor of the beauty of the child and the beauty it would have witnessed - something the mother never saw "at all" or never admitted to having seen. Beginning at the second stanza is an acrostic which spells "death". This is by no means a happy poem, and do not read it if you want something which will fill you with joy. My hope is that it will fill you with the desire for change, for that is always the beginning. You Never Saw It At All I lived - I was alive. I saw The wildflowers thrive - I saw the icicles of winter thaw. I saw The snow flurries and the butterflies Full of life against the western sun. You never saw it at all. I saw the candy red of harvest leaves, The scarlet gloss of apples In the autumn eaves, I saw the crimson burning oaks Extended over land like patchwork Tapestries of amber seas. I saw the sun sink into its depths, Into its ruby waves I saw it fall. All this I saw. You never saw it at all. Dare you remember me? Day after day you shall find me, Do you dare reveal every Dream you deserted? Ever my shadow shall Ever reseal the armada, the Ensemble of memory within you. Ah, you shall remember me. Age upon age shall my Arrows pursue you, until At last you receive, or recede. No Aerie or nest shall beneath you be still. All the earth will be wild – All the earth will be wild and you will be Adam, you once with no sin, destroyed by its glimmer; A choice. All the earth will be wild; The wind shall be strange and The world shall be silent to you. The sky will be foreign; The stars shall be disarranged and The sun will be brutal, violent. Though you tread through the thorns and the thicket with Threadbare garments and pass yet unscratched, the Thistles are catching. You will not be unscathed. The thread of your tale is unsatiated, it Hungers for something, hunting, hunting like a snake. How you hated the thought of me, How you looked upon me, and did not love, How you hated my heel against your side, my gentle Heel as I kicked. You hated my Heart, though you hinted at less. You hid as though inside a tomb The fear which hidden fights within you still; You set it deep within your womb – This one you cannot kill. I saw the sunrise pierce the melted dawn, – and shatter all across the newborn sky; I saw the sunlight kiss the spotted fawn, – and saw the fledgling fly. I lived. I was alive – I saw The flowers bloom and thrive – I saw The hidden garden answer Heaven’s call, – You never saw it at all. Now please read this article published by Crossway.
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