What Could Never Be Born

I watched her for nights,
glowing. 
The overhead lights 
pretending to be her moon.
Sometimes I lost her in the 
dark
as I went chasing after her
fingers
dancing themselves to the
beat of some other mystery.
She told me It didn't turn out 
right, the colors and the 
shades.
The channel broken
somewhere along the way as 
she sipped her evening tea.
Hardly able to read my own 
handwriting, I sat
dumbfounded by what had 
manifested on the page.
I had never seen something
so beautiful,
yet so broken,
so miraculous
Yet so human
Where in this hauntingly
disastrous world had she 
gone to bring back the sky
that had been painted 
between the trees by a 
creator weeping in joy
knowing that one day a 
daughter would wake
and bring to life
what could never be born.