A small, dim room.
Some discomfort.
Some prodding.
And then,
there you are.
Tiny, scratchy, white lines on the black.
The bones of your sweet, miniscule hands.
A twitch of your tiny toes,
and my heart explodes.
You don't yet seem real,
however, there you are.
Your face on the screen before me,
kinda squishy,
Barely discernable.
Even into the chambers
of your sweet heart,
Open and close.
Pumping furiously,
little life,
Fascinating to have seen you,
inside and out,
brings tears to my eyes.
There you are little life,
curling into me.
So disappointed that I can only barely see.
What will you be?
I ponder as I gaze.
The soft tufts of your hair sway.
Why do I have to wait?
Why can't you be here today?
I want so much to hold you,
to tell you all there is to know.
To show you off to the world,
To see your eyes glow.
To hold your tiny hands...
But for now it'll do.
Just me in this room.
I know you are well,
and your time will come.
I'll keep you safe in my self.
