Poetry

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I felt your kick so hard and strong,

I did not know something was wrong.

You wanted out, you could not wait,

You came before your birthing date.



A tiny thing you were, you took away my breath,

though it scared me so, I would not think of death.

I could only hope, that God would hear my cry,

to touch your little body, and not to let you die.



Your lungs were weak your weight was light,

but yet you knew you had to fight.

You seemed to draw on all the love,

that God was sending from above.



And then as if on cue, you started to grow strong,

all those non-believers, you had to prove them wrong.

and when you left for home, what a joyous day,

Baby girl had won the race, Mya-ann would stay.



I can’t believe how big you’ve grown,

I guess you think we should have known,

That it would all turn out okay,

that you would get to run and play.



Amazing how time flies, a year has come and gone,

one would never know, that things had been so wrong.

And so when people ask, I love to tell your story,

of how you were a miracle, so God will get the glory.

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