Your soft eyes are closed now, and you are dreaming of milk, tiny fists fumbling around your lips.
You are breathing, and I am so glad.
You weren't breathing so well the other night, and the more raspy your breath the more scared I got.
And the more scared I got, the harder you cried, and the less you sounded like my baby, and the more you sounded like a helpless stranded seal.
I gathered up your helpless little seal-ness into my arms, and I held you.
And I prayed for you, and I prayed for me too, because that was what you needed, and it was all the same.
Oh, sweet Jesus, still the salt waves of my soul.
And I calmed down, not because you were okay or even because I hoped you might pull through, but because this was so deadly serious.
And then you grinned at me, and barked.
And you and I together held each other both, until finally we could breathe.
A Sonnet for St. Luke’s Day
1 day ago