My Arms Are Tired

A poem I wrote while Kaylee was in hospital.

My arms are tired

from holding on to you

It's been seven and a half weeks now

since you were born

since I have slept in my own bed

since I have eaten a meal with your brothers and sisters

around our table

since I have scolded them to pick up their toys

or finish their dinner.

or tucked them in with bedtime stories and prayers

For seven and a half weeks

I have slept in strange beds

on couches

and on chairs next to your warmer

the beeps and bleeps of monitors

weaving through my dreams

I have seen a world I never knew existed

and though you hardly way a thing,

my etherialy beautiful daughter,

my arms are tired

from holding you

I am pressed in at every side

by the pained souls of others

as we watch our children

struggle and fight for life

I have prayed until my voice was just

a solid lump in my throat,

I have sung with my voice cracked

my hand touching your hair

wondering if you could hear me

I have tried to breathe for you

just to keep you going.

My arms are tired

from holding you

and though my arms are tired

and my heart is breaking

and my soul has shattered

into a thousand shards

and the world is now viewed through

the prism of my tears

I have never felt stronger

and the world has never looked

so beautiful