You Can’t See Me

You can’t see me, but I am,

Everything as much as you,

Like a pearl inside a clam,

Hard to fathom, but it’s true.

You are big, I’m merely small,

You can learn, yes, so can I

Even if you’re six feet tall,

Human! No ­one can deny.

I can hear my mother’s voice

And her heartbeat gives me peace.

Yet, I’m startled by loud noise,

But her songs put me at ease.

I can’t see you, but I know

That you love my mommy too.

For I hear you tell her so,

Gentle words, all know, are true.

Yes, that’s how it is meant to be.

Life is never about choice.

Love’s our gift that sets us free,

Bet you want to hear my voice?

Love to see me crawl, then walk

Show me, teach a world to see,

Hear me gurgle, smile and talk,

Dad, you’ll mean the world to me!

Truth is, I can hardly wait

What a joy that day will be,

Let’s look forward to that date,

Made complete, dad, mom and me.

A. Blokhuis

July 18/16

Today, Another Day

Today I began, just a wee little thing

You don’t know I’m around, your little offspring

I’m really so small, but all of me is here

My genetic makeup already so clear

I’m a part of him and a part of you

My biggest wish, that you carry me through

Today, another day, I am four weeks old

Maybe you haven’t even yet been told

That I’m growing inside of you; but I’m still me

Its already determined if I’m a he or a she

The colour of my eyes, or if I’ll be tall

All of it established even though I’m so small

Today, another day, I am eight weeks old

Hopefully to you, I’m a sight to behold

My tiny little body has tripled in size

My miniature heart beating out its reprise

My fingers and toes have started to form

As I lay here inside you, so cozy and warm

Today, another day, I am twelve weeks old

My vital organs are functioning so bold

I can kick and stretch, but you won’t feel me yet

Although I might make your stomach upset

I can close my fingers and curl my toes

I hope, for me, its life that you chose

 Today, another day, I am sixteen weeks old

I’m living inside you, you’re my stronghold

I’m safe in here, you’ll protect me right?

‘Cause I’m too little to defend myself in a fight

It’s you I need, as I continue to grow

And daddy too, to be my hero

Today, another day, I am twenty weeks old

You may have felt me as I find my foothold

My delicate chest now rises and falls

I’m practicing to breathe for outside these walls

My little mouth is swallowing more

And my senses are blooming, in case you’re unsure

Today, another day, I am twenty-four weeks old

My body fat is growing to protect me from cold

My lips and eyes are clear to see

My brain is growing, so rapidly

My lungs are developing and now I can hear

So talk to me please, so I know that you’re near

Today, another day, I am twenty-eight weeks old

I can hear your voice, have you been told?

I can open my eyes and turn my head

I’m getting fatter, or so they said

I sleep and wake in regular spaces

As long as I find the most comfortable places

Today, another day, I am thirty-two weeks old

A round little basketball is what I’ve been called

I can tell the difference between dark and light

My legs are growing to give me some height

My hair is growing and I’m gaining weight

As you count down the weeks until my due date

Today, another day, I am thirty-six weeks old

Your energy is probably starting to fold

I’m gaining about twenty-eight grams a day

Filling out your tummy where I don’t plan to stay

No doubt that I poke you with my elbows and feet

I’m getting so excited as we prepare to meet

Today, another day, I am forty weeks old

My impatience to see you cannot be controlled

I’m fully developed, past ready to come

Although I might spend some more time in here, mum

My head is down and I’ll be on my way soon

Apparently its time to leave this cocoon

Today, another day, today I am

I’ve grown so much since I weighed less than a gram

I think that it’s clear, I’m part of a plan

That my life has mattered from the day I began

The doctor was right when he made the great call

That a person’s a person, no matter how small.

How Fearfully, How Wonderfully Made

How fearfully, how wonderfully made!

Beyond a shadow, or a shade,

Human, in every function, every way,

My Lord, my God! With my own DNA.

He formed and nurtured me, at every stage!

My life is written on His page,

Made me with purpose, yes indeed

From first to last, I’m made complete.

Who doubts the very will of God?

Then, why should we react distraught?

When we’re found knit within a womb

As He wills it! Let none assume,

That we are made some innert cells

A tumorous miscreant blob that dwells,

An abstract nuisance, quite remote…

Whose handiwork does this denote?

Who formed each delicate little toe?

Cells multiplied, each one just so?

A mouth, bright eyes, small shell­like ears

Heart, nerves, a brain with sense, that hears?

Oh Life… A treasure, each one so,

It’s by His grace that we may grow

And bring our joys in Him complete,

Surprising lives, with love replete.

A. Blokhuis

April 5/16

Have you seen your ultrasound,

With your own two eyes?

Was it not incredible?

After you heard their lies?

They told you it was nothing

“A little thing, don’t fear.

It’s something we do all the time,

And you’ll be in the clear.

Just come, don’t think about it,

And soon you will forget…”

But something told you deep inside

It would cause such regret.

It’s hard, I know, but somehow

It’s easier to smile,

Knowing this life inside of you

Will make your world worthwhile.

You know, all life is precious,

So let nobody take,

Your joy out of life’s laughter,

Life’s gift, for baby’s sake.

A. Blokhuis

Feb. 10/16

Based on a report in The Interim, Page 6, November 2015 by Lianne Laurence.

Where is a hero found today?

Why, Linda Gibbons, I would say.

While you sit in your easy chair

Pontificating, life’s not fair.

A judge has sentenced! Without fail,

Such crimes committed call for jail,

For she’s pro­-life.

Say, how did this all come to pass?

Surely this proves “the law’s an ass,”

This grandma standing all alone

On some spot called a bubble zone;

One silent witness with a sign, “Why Mom?

When I have so much Love to give.”

Judge, let them live.

Ten years, eight months, three weeks she’s spent,

While prosecutors rage and vent.

Yet, she refused to speak in court,

Opposing those who would abort.

Handcuffed she took the sheriff to task,

“You’d allow baby murders?” She’d ask.

Her crime? Pro-­life!

These murdering black­robed fiends who say,

“You’ve done the crime, we’ll make you pay

It’s not about some unjust law

It’s what you do and what we saw.

We make these laws, I’ll let you know,

Now keep the peace; I’ll let you go.”

Why? She’s Pro-­Life

A. Blokhuis

Nov. 15/15

[Death of innocence]

I too was human, just like you…

My right to life? Sadly ignored.

Therefore, I now appeal to you…

O, may this vile crime be abhorred!

Made human, yet, I had no choice.

Their pets received more love than I

And so I ask you, “Be my voice,

Shout out, “It’s wrong I had to die!”

Human, like anyone you’d meet,

Denied a choice that I should live,

An act of malice made complete,

Denied my chance much love to give.

Once human, now, I am no more,

Unique, with my own DNA,

Discarded smudge, some blood and gore

And yet, like you in every way.

Compassion has a human soul!

Then hear my cry, heed my appeal,

Love’s but a two­way street made whole,

Both, life and love combined, reveal.

A. Blokhuis, Aug. 29/15

There is no law made by those dead
God’s law is for the Living.
And when a birth is imminent
A living child’s a given.
Is it too hard to understand?
And need I explain further?
When life through birth is close at hand.
To kill such? It’s plain murder!

The last time I wrote Ottawa
To our dear ‘Justice’ man,
I heard the same as what I saw,
That ‘Justice’ is a sham.
One smiled a lot propped in a chair
Alas, that man is dead,
I pleaded, man, do you not care?
Dead men can’t hear what’s said.

I looked and I was horrified
This man, carved out of stone?
A glacier, worse, he’s ossified,
No longer flesh and bone.
“Fear not” said he, “Life’s well and good,
What you don’t understand
My world’s unfolding as it should
Utopia close at hand.”

Dead men, without a future
Repose without the Law.
They, in their state of stupor, Romans 11:8
With eyes that never saw,
With ears, yet never hearing
Truth’s facts of life deny…
Without sense, life, nor fearing,
In death alone, to die!

A. Blokhuis
April 25/15

First open up and dilate,
We’ll give the Fiend some room
So he can use his instruments
Engaged in acts of doom.
It’s so to gain His access
And crush that tiny brain
Dismantled from it’s cervix,
Dissected from what’s sane.

Gently extract the pieces
And place them on a tray
Clings to His evil thesis,
Your problem’s gone away,
Now first we’ll reassemble,
Make sure each piece is there,
We’d never want to hurt you
The Devil takes great care.

Nurse will hold your hand dear,
Yes, she will see you through,
Ah, just a few more minutes,
You’ll be as good as new,
Yet, torn and mutilated,
This tiny human soul
Has been annihilated,
Harbinger of sheol.

My God, it’s bloody murder!
Dear Lord what have I done?
Is there for such forgiveness?
O God, where shall I run?
I’ve killed my tiny baby
What they said was a lie,
O Lord, help me and save me
I caused a life to die.

I?
I caused
I caused a life…
I caused my Lord to die
For me.

A. Blokhuis
Mar. 30/15

“…so I couldn’t sleep last night and spent time from 1-2:30 [paging through magazines] and then noticed this image in an eyewitness book…I’d been thinking about and praying for [my daughter] who was doing a [pro-life demonstration] and this image jumped out at me…the connection between these helpless fledglings and the human fetus has probably been made before but it galvanized a few things in my mind…and turned my stomach most of today…just drafted this response…”

What mind would choose?

What mind
would choose…
to rip
apart?
Defying
conscience?
Breaking heart?

Oh let love fly.
It need not die.
Safe place to thrive
and be alive!

Poem by Zelophead

Life!

What Father made most perfectly
Sly Fiend wants to destroy.
God’s love found every time we see
Each newborn girl or boy.

For Life is in each child contained
The instant when conceived
Old Satan wants his lies maintained.
Be not by him deceived.

That little one growing inside,
Autonomous! One whole,
Let not the evil Fiend decide,
He’s out to kill each soul.

And O, the anguish and the strife
What heartaches to endure,
When realizing “I took a life.”
Is there for such a cure?

Christ died for you to bear your pain,
And surely He’ll forgive,
Through faith renewed, to hope again,
And know Life is to live.

We each are to our purpose born
Then let your heart decide,
To love your child, as yet unborn,

Trust Him! He’s at your side.

A. Blokhuis
August 2/14