broke it.

Today brings quickness to my ink,  
now and forever,
for I have learned the name of another piece of my heart:
when my birth-father was waiting to see
the baby whose childhood he knew he would miss -
my arrival, his eclipse -  
he prayed for the first time.
He held me and cried and cried.
 
And that morning I was brought home
with the ones who raised me,
who had waited and waited to save me.
I would not learn of his love until seventeen years later,
where it sprung cool and abundant
from his pastor-heart.
 
Yes,
I was born into a massive story
belonging to so many journeyers:
a begged-for comet in a sea of stars,
a spark on eyes so patient for fire.
They saw me glimmer at birth.
Now I have stuck in each of their skies,  
and I will be bright.
 
I am someone else's poetry;
it is not my choice whether to shine.