6 years ago, the rose creeper
flushed a pinkness of flowers into the garden,
welcoming you home.
My Little Girl,
in the hospital with you in my arms.
We knew your first name
from the dream I had.
But we were trying to find a second name for you.
And when we settled on it,
we felt that peace would be your heritage.
So we called you Wise
and we called you Dove.
Do you know, from the windowsill
on that very day
a dove, whiter than white can be,
flew into the air?
And I knew that God was there
in the feathers telling us something
in a small way.
I don't really remember the bouquets of flowers.
But I do remember the roses spilling
the air with joy,
so glad they were that you came home.
Day 27 Prompt - bouquet