Little One

This is for my aunt, whose baby was diagnosed with Anecephaly. Her name is Phoebe Ann, and she will die shortly after birth. Through all things we must remember, God is good.

You do not know, my little one,

What for you is in store.

Beyond the warm embrace of love,

You know nothing more.

Right outside your gentle home,

Wicked things now brew.

Yet beyond the simple whispered words,

Those things mean naught to you.

You do not know, my precious one,

What now for you is due.

Death waits outside your doorway,

But your Father is not yet through.

Though your little bones are not done growing,

Your arms are reaching wide.

So when death comes to kiss your lungs,

You'll need not search for place to hide.

You do not know, my treasured one,

You've sighed your final breath.

You were stolen away too soon,

Yet felt no pain through death.

All you knew were my reluctant arms,

Screaming 'don’t let her go,'

Yet with a gentle kiss across your brow,

You were taken Home.

You do not know, my sacred one,

I've never longed like this before.

I want you back inside my arms,

To hold you just once more.

Now there's an empty hole inside my heart,

That can be replaced with none but you.

Strong I hold onto the Comforter now,

For above all His love is true.