Seems fitting

As I was reading Empty Cradle, Broken Heart: Surviving the Death of Your Baby the other night I came across this poem that seems fitting to my blog. Notice my header is a women gazing out the window... I imagined this to be me thinking of my baby, Brinley.
Song for an Empty Cradle
for Andrea

Out my bedroom window rests my gaze

Though the mist of emptiness and pain’s grey haze

I watch the patterns softly formed and changed,

The hillsides’ grasses gently rearranged

By the winds’ caressing touch.

From my womb she fell; my breath was stilled

By fear and pain and yet my heart was filled

By the overwhelming wonder of what was Andrea

That now lay white and quiet in my hand.

My baby, my prayers, the life that I had planned

Were gone. And in their place was left

A desert. Hot and empty and so bereft

of hope, save for the splintered dreams I’d planned

That shined like broken bottles in the sand.

And soon the minutes into long months turn,

And even with time’s comfort still I yearn

To hold her once in warm embrace

And say goodbye, and yet, there is a place

I carry her still, within my heart, steadfast;

For even the briefest of memories last.

Out my bedroom window rests my gaze

Through the mist of emptiness and pain’s grey haze

I watch the patterns softly rearranged

And know my life, my dreams have all been changed.

My daughter’s life was brief yet such

That in my emptiness I have so much.

– Clara Wilbrandt-Koenig