Presence

A poem for the children I have seen during my time as a PEDS chaplain – specifically those children who spent their hours in the hospital without a parent to comfort them.

 

Presence
Unfamiliar eyes stare into her big beautiful browns
Rocking gently as lids flutter off to sleep
Finger holding the renegade pacifier in place
Air filling with gentle words of love and peace
Not alone

Plastic tires glide across crisp white hospital linens
Sticky little fingers pull at my yellow mask
“Hug?” is spoken, and received
Little boy body relaxes into the mattress
Not alone

Tears and terror squished into the tiniest ball
Rising up when fear and sadness is spoken into the silence
Giant stuffed puppies that attack pink dollhouses
Strange hands hold pink basins, strange fingers are squeezed
Not alone

Bubbles pop on the cutest little brown nose
Dimples come out to greet as laughter swells
Tiny toes reach through bars to be tickled
Stories, songs, and peekaboo as little eyes find their rest
Not alone

Photo by Aditya Romansa on Unsplash