A first poem for Lucia and Alethia, written in that euphoric semi-sleepy state I live in these days:
You knit them together –
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.