Phillip Poem by Melissa Joy Chesky

Oh, little baby Phillip.
Such a sad thing to know
that we won’t witness
your first signs of life
and your little baby coo.

Your first little steps
will never be looked upon
by anyone but God,
and nonetheless no caught sight
of your little baby feet
with your little baby toes.

Such a horrid thing to feel
a strong connection to you and your mother’s womb.
And, oh, how you’ll never grow
more than the size of an apple
but you’ll be the apple we cherish,
the fruit of our hope.

And, baby, such sadness to know
we’ll never look upon your face to see
those Blue Stairs’ eyes gazing back,
just like Granny’s.

Your round face crinkling into a smile
will never be photographed and praised upon.
Oh, such sadness to know
that we’ll never watch you play
we’ll never hear you speak
not even a laugh or cry.
We’ll never hear your heart beat
neither fast, nor slow.

Oh baby Phil,
we’ll never see you succeed
or see your fight in life.

We’ll never see a graduation
nonetheless no wedding in your name,
Phillip Jay.

Oh baby Phillip, you made me cry purple.

But if life’s so short –
the body of an angel cutting your life –
at least you lived in the temple of hope,
the epitome of Light.