Liliana Faith
10 Feb 2007
In the cold of the winter, the mountaintops furled,
Our sweet little daughter came into this world.
Her tiny young body, so tender, so small,
Proved she was God’s handiwork, perfect and whole.
Her miniature mouth never voiced a first ring—
Her miniature hands never reached out to cling—
Her miniature eyes never opened at all—
She heard Father calling and answered the call.
In the cold of the winter, the drifting of snow,
Our sweet little daughter to heaven did go.
Though she came and she left us much sooner than planned,
Becoming her parents makes us feel quite grand.
We’re even more grateful than we were before
To know of God’s plan and what is in store.
We love our dear Lily; we’re eager for when
We go back to heaven and see her again.
We’ll laugh and we’ll cry on that more distant day
When again we’re together to sing and to play.
Her sweet, tiny footprints we send so that you
Can know our sweet daughter as we know her too.
1 comment:
I didn't know you lost a baby. That was a very sweet poem and you have a wonderful outlook on a very difficult situation!
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