An angel was brought here to us last week. A soft pure spirit. Warm and wet, placed upon my pulsing stomach. Her peace untouchable.
As she is held in our arms here on earth today, her spirit seems still to hover, at times, in another realm. Each day though becoming more earthly, she is landing softly, gently.
To know this love is to be touched by the divine. A grace only a newborn child can grasp. She holds the answers.
May it seep in slowly. May we not quickly forget the treasures that she holds, gripped loosely in her tiny hands. Treasures for us to drink up, should they not go unnoticed.
Dear angel child, we welcome you with open arms.