Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Give Me Strength

Tiny toes and fingers still curled around my heart
eyes too unfocused to see. A mouth without words only cries of pain and hunger.
     O Lord, give me strength.
Those hands are into everything. The feet patter across the floor where ever I go. Watching, always watching me, the tears still flow from the little mouth, now full of babble and bits of cheerio.
     O Lord, give me strength.

The skin is scraped from knuckle to knee. Dirt, blood and tears smear across a little face. Baths are impossible. Pajamas torture. Tomorrow I'll break out the bandages again.
     O Lord, Give me strength.

A single tear drops, unwelcome. Too big hands wipe it away before I'm supposed to have noticed. I offer more food, a shoulder for tears and a shaky smile. Broken hearts don't need mom anymore.
    O Lord, give me strength.

Those fingers are the last thing I see. Long, grown up, waving from the window as the plane departs. The tears and cries are mine, this time. My child, alone in a great big world with only what I have given. Is it enough? I can't wrap those hands around mine, wipe away the tears, or promise it'll all be better tomorrow. If only I could tuck the little fingers and toes safe against my breast. curled around my heart forever more.
     O Lord, give me strength.

No comments:

Post a Comment