Zoraja

My four year old when she was six weeks

Liquid eyes of the virginal princess
Glisten at me as she lies confused and fearful
Her tiny mouth puckered with an impending cry
Her frailty stark
Helpless hoping I will come and lift her, save her
With warm arms made strong from loving
But nurses work to find a vein and mommy can’t intercede

Instead I look out the window to avoid the sight
Of my little one’s suffering
Dehydration claiming the little form
Is too much to see
So I let them stick her there
Let them put fire, then ice, into her body
Let them take control
Where I could not

Four years gone and she still looks to me to save her
My princess with the deep black eyes
Falls, slips, and spills
And survives
Yet her anxious eyes look to me
Hoping
Forever awaiting salvation I can’t give