The Father's Hands

Here's a poem I wrote about this little girl the day after she was born:

The Father’s Hands (3/18/2014)

Your soft red velvet rolls up against my chest

Wrinkled curly fingers reach, blindly swimming for warmth

Thin, matted fur loosely frosts

the cupcake head that rests

While I hold you now.

Your puffy pillow legs pace the still air

Matching sirens squealed from a tiny toothless scrunch

Short, helpless hands tug at the world,

unsure that it is there

While I hold you now.

Your rosebud ears yearn through fresh dried flecks of womb

Slow seas of sapphire pour from slits to illumine a sightless visage

One thin, fleshy tail wags over your lips

To taste life and begin to bloom

While I hold you now.

Your tiny heart tap dances a tune in reply

To the breathy whisper of twin neighborly lungs

As a jolly jelly-bean belly gurgles its first meal,

Dawn awakens a meek young mind to fly

While I hold you now,

I hold the world in my hands.