A first poem for Lucia and Alethia, written in that euphoric semi-sleepy state I live in these days:

You knit them together –

Tiny miracles

Each small sigh and cry

Annoucing their existence

The joy and delight immeasurable

Wrapped up inside tiny pink bundles

We proudly display them

In photos, on a walk, in videos to capture each magical moment.

But is there a moment with them that is not full of magic?

How to choose which to catch, which to let pass?

All the days ordained for them were written –

Authored and chosen by their Maker

Given to us like an ever-unfolding story

Hour by hour, day by day, night by (sleepless) night

A joyful exhaustion as we discover

Each day written for them

What it will hold: a first sleepy smile?

A furrowed brow like Dad’s?

Wide-eyed and alert, they take in the world in small bits

The outside world is all new for them.

And so now they must rest and sleep.

It is tiring to be so new

To be so tiny

To be such a miracle in such a bundle

I close my eyes to rest – to soak in the wonder –

And to hold them close as they cry.

Would that they would always be so quickly comforted!

My heart is full with a love that came into existence

With their birth

And a desire that their first memories would be of me loving them.

Only possible as I soak in my Father’s loveTo pass it along to them

In its pure form, undliluted by sin and failure

Meaning it must come from Him

The One who has knit them together,

Marked out each day,

And placed His indelible likeness upon them each –

To which their precious faces testify as they reflect this hidden glory.