But not tonight...

The first few weeks when no one sleeps,
The next few months when days are long,
The many years when they're not long enough,
Are all mixed in here, in the moment of this song,
From inside, on the top, and in between
Of every broken line.
~

Tonight, the hours
Tick on by as slowly as
My daughter's crying seems to ebb.
Her notes are piercing in
The native accuracy to my heart,
But now my heart is warmer, toughened, by her cry.
For sure,
Her voice is stronger
than I was.

There is no surer touch
Than that of a father
Who knows his daughter well.
There is no shakier touch
Than that of a dad
Who's just found out he is one.

My shakes have lessened since
The first few weeks when
Holy terror locked my muscles
Past the point of mental break,
So scared I was that she would fall
And hit the floor, a thud, a whimper, nothing more,
Or lean her head back like a whip
And crack her neck and cease to breath.
I'd lie awake and watched her chest
Heave back and forth, slowly deep,
And place my hand upon her chest
To feel the lie
My eyes had told me.

Her eyes, a slated gray,
Had seemed too large
For the frail frame
That wrapped around them.

Her fingers, translucent threw
The light that washed her face
Of every color, but the ones I saw,
grasped out and grabbed me by the hand,
though I had hardly felt a thing.

I brought them home.
Her mother's courage brought us
Safely by those next ordeals
That were close at hand.

But now I know
She's made of tougher stuff
And so am I
We breath, we live, we'll die,
But not tonight.

~not fini