Here's a song I wrote about our little one. It's kind of long, but my coughing's been keeping me up at night. I decided I'd write a song for our child and immediately started humming Mary Black's song, "Adam's at the Window" for some reason. I'm not sure if she's the original songwriter on this song, but she sang it on one of her albums. This one's for the kid, as yet unknown but already alive in our hearts.
You Are at the Window
Written by Kathleen, to the tune of “Adam’s at the Window” (written/sung by Mary Black, an awesome Irish folk singer)
You are at the window, waiting for an opening.
Every time the wind blows; it moves you ever closer on a wing.
Standing at a distance, you may not yet know this love I feel.
But take just one step forward; I know I can convince you I am real.
And while we both sit feeling lost, with silence all around,
Your voice is singing in my heart, “Together we are found.
Together we are found.”
And we will soon find our way. We will soon find our way.
You are at the window, wondering what it’s like to be inside.
I am waiting in here, trying hard to hang on for the ride.
I wonder what you look like, wishing I could hold you close to me.
But I know that we must wait before we come to get you ‘cross the sea.
And though it seems forever that we wait (im)patiently,
We know that someday soon, each other’s faces we will see.
Our faces we will see.
And we will make sweet your name. We will make sweet your name.
I wonder what your eyes see, in a land I don’t know much about?
I wonder what your ears hear—whispers, lullabies and songs and shouts?
I wonder what you’re doing, at this very minute of the day?
So listen now, my child, for there is so much more I have to say.
And as I try envisioning your perfect little face,
Your tiny lips, your fingertips, your innocent embrace.
Your innocent embrace.
And I will sing out your song. I will sing out your song.
Eyes that dance with longing, little ears, a tiny little mouth.
You must sometimes wonder: What’s all this “adoption” fuss about?
Well, I will tell you gently, all the days that you are on this Earth:
“This world became better the moment that you graced it with your birth.”
And when the clueless people say, you were our “second choice.”
I’ll tell them quick, you’re our “first pick.” I’ll be your loudest voice.
I’ll be your loudest voice.
And I will speak truth for you. I’ll speak truth for you.
You are at the window, waiting for us, patient little one.
And we are sitting in here, doing forms and twiddling our thumbs.
Though we don’t yet know you, are unsure exactly who you are…
We’ll be right here with you, in our darkness you’ve become our star.
And as the twilight falls and sunlight softly settles down,
We’ll say hello, for you we’ll know, although you’re not yet found.
Although you’re not yet found.
And you will shine through our time. You’ll shine through our time.
I will be your rooftop, I will keep you dry and safe and warm.
I will be your raincoat, protecting you from hurricanes and storms.
I will be your daylight, reminding you you’re God’s most blessed one.
And I will be your nightlight, in the darkness shining like the sun.
And while the rain taps rhythms on our rooftop far above,
We’ll send to you and lend to you a melody of love. A melody of love.
And we will sing you, our song. We’ll sing you, our song.
Throwing wide the window, having watched it inch up every day.
Every time the wind blows, I’m reminded you’re not faraway.
Standing closer near me, you may now be feeling what I feel.
Wind, take this child to me, into arms so ready and so real.
And as we three dance wildly in the ever-shifting breeze,
Our arms entwined, our lives designed, we’ll be a family.
We’ll be a family
by choice and not so by chance. We’ll take up the dance.
You are at the window…