Your little Prayer Bear

When you didn't cry in delivery, we tried everything to wake you. 

The prayers, the tears, the long-held breaths; and still your skin was blue.

Stimulation, warmth, meds, oxygen; everything in the carts...

"Time to say goodbye," they said. What of our broken hearts?

A gift-bear was scrounged and cut. We emptied out some fluff. 

The goal?--to meme a clone of you, with loving kinds of stuff.

Your weight was taken--why, they asked--because we had a plan.

On the scale, your bear was precisely-filled, with little bags of sand. 

 We remember your birth and death, from that sad day, long ago. 

We knew the place where you had gone, your soul in heaven aglow. 

Your earthly bear maintained your pounds, no matter what the day.

To comfort Mom with thoughts of you: when she hugged it, cried and prayed. 

-2025